Jubilee Life Coach: Daily Meditations

Min Jin Lee

• Jubilee Christian Life Coach • Season 1

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In 1976, a seven-year-old girl landed in New York expecting Cinderella. She found Queens.

Back in Korea, Min Jin Lee had read her mother's set of Grimm's fairy tales. So she stepped off the plane looking for ball gowns, castles, and white horses. Instead, she says, it looked just like Seoul, only without the Korean people. She did not yet have the words, in English or Korean, to say she had been misled.

Her uncle John, a software engineer at IBM, had sponsored the family. Five of them settled into the living room of his two-bedroom apartment in Elmhurst, where his own family of four already lived. Her aunt was not thrilled. Her uncle did what he could. He bought a giant supply of bananas, a luxury in Korea at the time, and told the children to eat as many as they liked.

Many of us who came as children know this story by heart. Maybe not the bananas. But the living room, the borrowed space, and the quiet gap between what we imagined and what we found.


The quiet girl in the slow class

Reading came quickly for Lee. Speaking took years. "I couldn't talk to anybody," she told David Remnick. That had been true in Korea too. Her school sorted children into accelerated, normal, and slow classes. Her two sisters tested into the fast class right away. She spent two years in the slow one. Her parents, she says, simply did not expect much from her.

Then there was a first-grade teacher. Lee had finished her worksheet and was wandering at the back of the room. The teacher called her up and told her to hold out her hands. Lee thought she might be getting a present. Instead, the teacher struck her hands several times in front of everyone. Then she called Lee's mother to report behavioral problems.

For decades, Lee assumed it was her fault for being a dreamy, goofy kid. When she was 49, her mother finally told her the truth. The teacher had come to their home wanting money.

That quiet girl went on to Yale, practiced corporate law, and spent twelve years writing her first published novel. Ten years later came Pachinko.

Through an IFS lens

In Internal Family Systems language, a child who is shamed often leaves a young part behind. That part stays frozen in the moment, holding a belief like "It was my fault." Richard Schwartz calls such parts exiles, and he describes the beliefs they carry as burdens they were never meant to hold (Schwartz, 2021). Brené Brown describes shame as the painful belief that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging (Brown, 2012).

Notice what loosened Lee's burden. It was one true sentence, spoken late, by someone who knew what really happened.

A Reformed corrective

IFS hopes the Self will be the healer. I see it differently. Curiosity, calm, compassion, and the other C's are real gifts. But they are fruits of grace, not a spring that rises from inside us. The One who lifts shame is God. Christ endured the cross and despised its shame (Heb. 12:2), so that His people would no longer be named by it. Ed Welch's Shame Interrupted (2012) is a gentle guide to how God does this.


A word from the Bible

Lee calls herself obsessed with diaspora. All four of her planned novels, she says, are about it. She believes it is a permanent condition and that it will only grow. She also named kinds of diaspora most Americans overlook: people who move because the water runs out, because the schools fail them, or because the jobs are gone.

Then she reminded Remnick where the word comes from. It is a Greek word from the Bible, first used for the scattering of the Jewish people. She wants readers to see that newcomers are changed by a place, and that they change it too. "It's my job to make everybody Korean, David," she joked. "I think Koreans are awesome."

She is right about the Bible. The New Testament uses the word for Jews living among the Greeks (John 7:35) and for the twelve tribes scattered abroad (James 1:1). Then Peter does something surprising.

Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who are elect exiles of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.


1 Peter 1:1 (ESV)

Peter takes Israel's old word for scattering and gives it to the church. And notice the word in front of it. These believers are elect exiles. Their scattering was not an accident. They were chosen "according to the foreknowledge of God the Father" (1 Pet. 1:2). Sinclair Ferguson, in his teaching series on First Peter, gives one lesson a title every immigrant understands: "Do We Belong Here?" (Ferguson, 2024).

Peter's readers would have known how God first spoke to exiles. Jeremiah sent a letter to Babylon.

But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.


Jeremiah 29:7 (ESV)

"Where I have sent you." Babylon was a disaster. It was also a sending. God told the exiles to build houses, plant gardens, and pray for the very city that had carried them away. Tim Keller drew from this letter a path between two temptations: losing ourselves in the city, or walling ourselves off from it (Keller, 2012).

Lee says she changes the molecules in the air wherever she goes. I believe the gospel says something deeper about God's scattered people. We are placed, on purpose, to be a blessing. On Sunday, God gathers His people. On Monday, He sends them out again. That is diaspora too.

History has failed us, but no matter.

Opening line of Pachinko (Lee, 2017), which Lee calls a thesis for all her books


Ordinary people

History, Lee says, remembers rulers, winners, and losers. Ordinary people and how they coped mostly disappear. Her novels try to give them back. And in the words "no matter," she hears a call to be defiant.

I share her care for ordinary people. Many who read this blog are missionaries, pastors' families, and immigrants whose sacrifices no textbook will record. But Scripture lets me say it a little differently. History has not failed God's people, because God has not stopped writing it. Peter's scattered believers were not forgotten. He called them chosen. Our defiance has firm ground. We have been "born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead" (1 Pet. 1:3).


Six days a week

Near the end of the interview, Remnick asked about the Bible. Lee reads it six days a week. On Sundays she is at church. She started at 26, after learning that Willa Cather read a chapter of the Bible before she began to write (Flock, 2018). She has now read it through seven times. Leviticus once bored her. Now she admires it. She called the Bible "such a stunning story about one person, God."

She also admitted, with a laugh and stronger words than mine, that she is not that good of a Christian.

I smiled at both lines. The second is the honest confession of every believer I know, including the one writing this. The first is close to what Geerhardus Vos and Edmund Clowney spent their lives teaching: the Bible is one unfolding story, and God Himself is at its center. And here is the good news for all of us who are not very good at it. Peter's exiles were not elect because they were good Christians. They were elect because God chose them.

Perhaps you came to this country as a child, expecting castles. Perhaps you serve today far from the place you call home. Your scattering may also be a sending. The God who sent His people to Babylon has not stopped sending.

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