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The Hobbit Chapter 3: “A Short Rest”

Chapter Summary

After their harrowing encounter with the trolls, Bilbo, Gandalf, and the dwarves continue their journey eastward into the wild. Following Gandalf’s guidance, they make their way toward Rivendell, the hidden valley home of Elrond and the elves.

Finding Rivendell proves challenging—the valley is magical and difficult to locate. When they finally discover it, they are warmly welcomed by Elrond, who is described as “as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer.”

The company enjoys a much-needed rest in the beautiful, peaceful valley. They feast, sing songs, and recover from their travels. The elves are merry and somewhat playful, which annoys some of the more serious dwarves.

Elrond examines the swords taken from the troll hoard and reveals their significance—they are ancient blades from Gondolin, made for fighting goblins. Gandalf’s sword is Glamdring (Foe-hammer), and Thorin’s is Orcrist (Goblin-cleaver). Elrond also reads the moon-letters on Thorin’s map, revealing crucial information: a secret door into the Lonely Mountain can only be found on Durin’s Day when the last moon of autumn and the sun are in the sky together.

After a fortnight of rest and preparation, the company reluctantly leaves the peace of Rivendell to continue their dangerous quest into the Misty Mountains.

Reflections on Hospitality

On Bilbo’s first visit to Rivendell, Tolkien described Elrond’s house like this:

“His house was perfect, whether you liked food or sleep, or work, or storytelling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evil things did not come into that valley.”

Bilbo would visit Rivendell three times, the last being the extended stay of his retirement. Frodo, Bilbo’s cousin and adopted heir, visited five times, and the complete fellowship of the ring visited once. Each visit was a time of rest and healing.

What made Rivendell so restorative? Not just the beauty of the valley or the quality of the food, but the quality of the welcome. Elrond offered more than shelter—he offered true hospitality, the kind that sees you, honors you, and makes space for you to catch your breath and remember who you are.

Hospitality heals.

A Radical Act of Welcome

In a world increasingly marked by suspicion, tribalism, polarization, and fear of the stranger, hospitality becomes a radical act of healing and quiet resistance—resistance to fear, dehumanization, and exclusion.

By welcoming those we’ve been taught to fear or dismiss—the different, the marginalized, the excluded—we offer healing not only to them but to ourselves.

For eleven years, every Monday, I offered hospitality to inmates at the county jail. Sometimes that hospitality took place face to face, sitting on overturned buckets in the hallway of a jail built in 1837. When a new jail was built, I met with people in each unit’s counseling room, the library, and the chapel area.

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi for Unsplash+

My first encounters with the incarcerated were frightening. These were people society deemed dangerous—and some indeed were—and unfit to live among us. Offering hospitality required courage.

Yet the more I met with them and listened to their stories, the more I came to understand that they were human beings much like me, putting their pants on one leg at a time, who—because of trauma, addiction, poverty, or despair—had made choices that harmed themselves and others.

I could not offer these men and women hospitality at my dinner table, so instead I offered the welcome of an open heart and a listening ear attuned to their pain and anger. For the duration of our encounters—and sometimes beyond—this simple hospitality of presence and listening helped heal the shame some carried and gave them hope that their past did not have to define their future.

The truth is, the hospitality I offered likely healed me more than it healed the inmates. It healed my fear of those I’d been taught to see as “other.” It dismantled my stereotypes about incarcerated people. It transformed my attitude from they are getting what they deserve to how might we help heal people broken by life, by their choices, and by society’s condemnation?

Hospitality, I learned, does not excuse harm or deny responsibility. But it refuses to reduce a human being to their worst moment.

When Ancient Enemies Become Friends

Later, in The Lord of the Rings, we discover that Elrond’s hospitality was the beginning of healing a decades-long rift between dwarves and elves—specifically between Gimli the dwarf and Legolas the elf.

The divisions between their peoples ran deep. Elves cherished beauty, preservation, poetry, and living in harmony with the natural world. Dwarves prized craftsmanship, mining, endurance, and loyalty to kin. Elves sometimes viewed dwarves as destructive to the earth, while dwarves felt elves failed to appreciate the skill and sacrifice involved in their work. Old grievances were remembered even when their original causes were forgotten.

Yet Elrond’s hospitality created space for something new. In the safety of Rivendell’s welcome, Gimli and Legolas began to see past their prejudices. Their unlikely friendship became one of the most hopeful themes in The Lord of the Rings—a reminder that even ancient enmities can be healed when we make room at the table.

Your Turn

What might offering hospitality to someone you’ve been taught to fear or dismiss heal in them—and in you?

The inmate. The undocumented immigrant. The transgender person. The person who votes differently than you. The neighbor whose life choices baffle you.

What if you offered them the hospitality of Rivendell—not a naïve welcome that ignores real differences or difficult truths, but a space where they are seen, heard, and honored as fully human?

You might be surprised by what gets healed—in them, yes, but perhaps most of all in you.

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Jim Cyr is a retired minister, a spiritual companion, and a storyteller. His adventures have taken him all over the United States and to Canada, Puerto Rico, Haiti, Europe, and the Philippines. His wisdom teachers have included, his dog, good church people, alcoholics, drug addicts, thieves, embezzlers, murderers, sex offenders, mob wise-guys, out of control kids, parents at the end of their rope, bad bosses and good bosses, people taking their last breath, three wives, multiple step children, mystics past and present, Muslims, Jews, Christians, and stories.

Learn more about Jim’s spiritual companionship and storytelling at www.jimcyr.com