I am frequently tempted to describe it as a kind of “Christian Bhakti,” a pure ecstatic devotionalism, as opposed to those more “Vedic” forms of Christianity that ground themselves in ancient traditions. Much of American Evangelicalism not only lacks any sense of tradition, but is blithely hostile to tradition on principle: What is tradition, after all, other than man-made history, and what is history other than exile from paradise? What need does one have of tradition when one has the Bible, that eternal love letter from Jesus to the soul, inerrant, unambiguous, uncorrupted by the vicissitudes of human affairs? In some of its most extreme forms, Evangelicalism is a religion of total and unsullied reverie, the pure present of the child’s world, where ingenuous outcries and happy gestures and urgent conjurations instantly bring forth succor and substance. And, at its most intensely fundamentalist, so precipitous is its flight from the gravity of history into Edenic and eschatological rapture that it reduces all of cosmic history to a few thousand years of terrestrial existence and the whole of the present to a collection of signs urgently pointing to the world’s imminent ending.
No state has genuine authority. But most people think they do. Most think we’re obligated to obey even bad laws. When someone (other than ourselves) breaks the law, we think it appropriate for agents of the state to punish that person, even if we disagree with that particular law. I have heard that it is nearly impossible to get a jury to consider nullification of bad laws, because almost all jurors think they “have to” help enforce the law.
Why? The arguments for government authority are very weak (see here and here). I turn instead to psychological explanations, drawing on social psychology …
Because of this obedience [following Jesus in self-giving service] Jesus will forgive me my heresy. I am like one of those satraps who has been sent to the borders of the kingdom. He must rule there as best he can, and he knows quite well that he does many things differently from what the king intends. But he trusts that when the king comes, he will not be rejected, but will be judged according to whether he has in general administered his office in the spirit of the king.
He comes to us as one unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lakeside. He came to those men who knew Him not. He speaks to us the same word: ‘Follow thou me!’ and sets us to the tasks which He has to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship, and, as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.