In the town where I live, driving is an everyday adventure. As you make your way from one part of town to another you must be constantly on the alert—some of the traffic around you is bound to be doing quite unexpected things. Being a well-trained Aussie I endeavour to stay on my side of the road, but there are times when it can be impossible to do so without having an accident.

Bad driving is not the only reason for this state of affairs. For example: One morning after rush hour, I was driving down the street towards the post office. Suddenly, a little ahead of me an oncoming Landcruiser veered straight into my lane. I hit the brakes and, carefully avoiding the motorised rickshaw that was about to overtake me on the near side, I headed off towards the side of the road. The Landcruiser careered back into its own lane just in time and within a few metres I saw the cause of his slalom: a deep pothole spread across almost the entire width of the street. It was hiding behind one of the many humps in the road caused by traffic much heavier than that for which the road was designed. To hit such a crater at speed could do terrible things even to a Landcruiser. Slowly I edged my thirty-year-old VW around it.

Every year as the wet season started, the roads in our town would begin disintegrating. At first there were just a few little holes here and there. Nothing much was done about them. The few holes became many more, as if a meteor shower had managed to reach Earth but hit only the streets of our town. The roads were not properly drained, and gradually the sides and the roadbed would wash away in the drenching monsoon rains. Each year the traffic continued to increase and the number of large trucks multiplied. The potholes expanded vertically as well as horizontally. Some roads became completely impassable as they took on the appearance of the moon's surface or turned into rivers of mud. The roads that were still passable saw an increasing number of accidents as vehicles danced all over them to avoid the potholes.

Each year in the dry season the roads were patched: the potholes were filled in and the road surfaces became reasonably smooth once more.

Until the next rainy season.

This year the streets of our town are undergoing drastic repair. All the major roads are being torn up, widened, drained, and re-surfaced. The patching up had become less and less effective—the only thing that could work was to start anew. Tear up the old and bring in the new. It isn't an easy solution—either for those doing the repairs or those trying to drive in the midst of them—but in the long run it is the only effective one.

Sin is like the potholes, our sinful human nature like the inadequately-built road. The foundation of the road is insufficient for the load of the traffic travelling on it. Everyday temptations are like the motorcycles and small cars hurrying to and fro on the streets of our town. A little white lie here, a pad of paper from the office there, a kick at the dog now and then, and the holes start to form. At first we ignore the dents in the surface of our road—we can slalom around them. If necessary we can always patch up the potholes with excuses.

But what happens when the traffic increases—when more and stronger temptations rain on us? The patching is useless to stop the potholes forming and growing. There are not only cars on our streets, there are also heavy trucks. "Little" sins lead to "bigger" sins. We might feel guilty, but our resolve to do better next time dissolves at the next temptation. The potholes grow. The bigger the pothole the harder it is to patch effectively. Eventually the pothole takes up the whole width of the road and traffic comes to a standstill (Have you ever seen a tiptruck down a pothole? We have!). There is only one solution and that is to tear up the old road and build a completely new one.

God's Word tells us it is useless for us to try and patch ourselves up in order to be reconciled to God and able to enter God's kingdom (Isa 64:6-7, Rom 3:20, 8:6-8). And God Himself will not do any patching on the old surface of our lives, either (John 3:5, 6, Gal 2:21). We must start anew—the road has to be torn up and completely rebuilt—we must be born again (John 3:3, 2 Cor 5:17). Only God, through Jesus, can forgive us our sins and bring us to new birth (2 Cor 5:18, 19, John 3:16, 1 Pet 1:3-5). The old road with its weak and unreliable surface must be destroyed and a new one put in its place—one good enough for God's purposes, with the right foundation and proper surface, and which only God can build (Ps 146:3, Gal 2:20, Eph 1:7, 8).

The people in our town may find the chaos of the road rebuilding inconvenient, but for the most part we are thankful that they are happening. How much more should we who have been given new life be thankful for the "rebuilding" God has done in us through Jesus Christ!