J.R.R Tolkien begins the Hobbit by telling us that Bilbo was a hobbit who lived in a hole in the ground, though not a muddy or dirty hole but a very homely and welcoming one for “It was a hobbit hole and that means comfort.” I’ve spent the weekend in airports across the country, in the ICU, in a beach condo in Destin Florida, and will return home shortly to Honolulu. That is to say, I’ve seen a lot of things that fly under the banner of “comfort” all while praying the daily office and reading The Lord of the Rings (which I read every four years during he election cycle). All of this has given rise to a question in me, “What is comfort?”