The most spiritual men, as the strongest, find their happiness where others would find their destruction: in the labyrinth, in hardness against themselves and others, in experiments. —Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ
The catacombs are a rhizomatic labyrinth of dark and gritty tunnels, an excessive underground archive which exposes the contingency of the cathedrals above ground. As catacombic theologians we are not opposed to the cathedrals as if we could introduce a more truthful re-presentation of the Real than the priests, we are simply indifferent to their impotent logic of the One. “Every rhizome,” as Deleuze and Guattari writes, “contains lines of segmentarity according to which it is stratified, territorialized, organized, signified, attributed, etc., as well as lines of deterritorialization down which it constantly flees.” Hence that which is stratified, territorialized, organized, signified and attributed is not rejected by catacombic theology, but it is recognized as constituted rather than as constituting. The cathedrals are thus seen as made for humankind, and not humankind for the cathedrals.
Accordingly, difference is not seen by catacombic theologians as separation but as the state in which one can speak of determination as such. Difference, then, does not presuppose opposition, but as Deleuze writes in Difference and Repetition, opposition presupposes difference. This move beyond the root-tree logic of the priests makes it possible for us to speak of various expressions in relational terms and it opens up a space in which everyone can participate in ecumenical discourses beyond any language of inclusion and the confines of ordained roles, should they find the way past the doorkeepers—the enemies of deterritorialization.
In the eyes of the priests we have lost our lives to the black night of the undifferentiated, but we live still and we find great joy in what the priests rightfully understands would shatter their identities.