Black Battle, White Knight. Michael Battle

first of the four beasts say with a thundering voice, ‘Come and see.’ And I beheld, and lo a white horse; and he that sat on him had a bow: and there was given unto him a crown, and he departed as conqueror and to conquest” (Rev 6:1–2). Malcolm is this White Knight representing pestilence because of his “queer” identity, his celebrity, and his shocking words.

      The white horse and its rider are ambiguous images that create polarities between good and evil, depending on one’s interpretation. For many biblical scholars, they see the White Knight as civil war and internal strife. Some go so far as to say the rider of the white horse is the Antichrist, or a representation of false prophets. Pestilence follows wherever this White Knight appears. Malcolm’s appearance certainly caused strife as he came out in public as a gay priest. Of course, I cannot write this biography without exploring Malcolm’s gay identity. Such identity becomes complex in light of his secular witness as a civil rights leader and his religious identity as an Episcopal priest. Malcolm writes, “My presence as a gay man and elder should be thought through in light of someone like Bayard Rustin, who organized the March on Washington, but whose role was never really acknowledged.” And so, this biography seeks to acknowledge Malcolm’s role in the Civil Rights Movement—and even more, to shed some light on Malcolm’s groundbreaking wisdom in understanding the relation of civil rights to gay rights.⁶

      As already mentioned, another aspect of Malcolm’s pestilence is in his celebrity status. Malcolm offers groundbreaking wisdom due to his ability o reach large publics without watering down his authenticity. This ability invites us to reflect upon Malcolm’s life as a celebrity figure. For example, a reporter shoved a microphone in Malcolm’s face and asked, “They just announced that God is dead. Do you have a comment?” This dynamic of celebrity is true, especially, following the publication in 1965 of the spiritual classic and international best-seller Are You Running with Me, Jesus? ⁷ For many, the combination of being both gay and a celebrity priest is an abomination or is just plain sick. The rider of the white horse (or the White Knight) fits Malcolm because there are concurrent meanings: white for goodness, but a pestilence because his words frequently shocked and offended. The White Knight causes polarities between good and evil, destruction and creation. Among the civil wars concerning full inclusion of gay identity, interpretations swung between extremes as to whether gay people could be fully human, married, serve in the military, and even be Christian. Malcolm’s life demonstrated such pendulum swings. In terms of the pendulum swinging toward goodness, according to Revelation 19, the rider on the white horse is depicted as the Word of God. In the end, however, the White Knight not only represents Malcolm’s queer identity and celebrity status, it also represents the pestilence of the white horse because of his shocking words. Much of Malcolm’s work was deemed controversial and apocalyptic because Malcolm’s word of God shocks—words like, “Jesus had a penis.”⁸ “Malcolm proclaims that we minister to Jesus—the Jesus who comes in Matthew in the guise of the needy, the thirsty, and the naked–when we minister to a “nigger,” a “kike,” a “dago,” a “queer,” a “dyke,” or a “faggot.”⁹ Such a word from the Lord made people sick of Malcolm. The pestilence of Malcolm’s words drove many to extremes. So, not only was Malcolm a White Knight bringing pestilence, he was doing this through the controversy of his poetry, theology, and prophecy. The White Knight proclaimed that the end of the world and judgment day would occur if people did not repent for racism, a continuation of hunger, torture for masses of people, environmental collapse, and the division of people into warring tribes.

      Thus the rider of the White Horse seems to appropriately represent Malcolm in at least three aspects: his gay identity, celebrity, and shocking language. The symbol of the White Knight is crucial to begin reflection on Malcolm’s life.

      Red Horse

      In my third chapter, Malcolm is also the apocalyptic rider of war. The red color of his horse represents blood spilled on the battlefield. He carries a powerful sword that represents battle. Malcolm is also this red rider of war because of his courage to fight against racism and war, conformity and indifference, the misuse of religion, and a flagrant worship of false gods.

      I am happy that Malcolm approved the first part of the title of this book, “Black Battle.” In so doing, he has allowed this creative biography in which my name is also a part of the book. Malcolm’s keen mind was always aware of the pun of my name as he writes:

      Dear Michael: I’m at the Cathedral Center and the coming storm is ominous, hovering around stone towers, threatening all peace and security. Armageddon. The Final Battle (oops! Don’t take that personally) looms. Where shall I hide? Actually I won’t, I think I’ll just go home and wait out the whole bloody thing. I can already hear the Final Rain start beating on the roof.

      Well, however, we have a meeting tomorrow. (The Final Battle will have to wait, won’t it?) Apparently I will await you at home around 1 PM. This is an important one in our mutual progress. Don’t forget to park on Tracy where there are no meters. All best—Malcolm¹⁰

      The genre of this biography is unusual because of my spiritual direction with Malcolm. More importantly, my voice is here. This proves to be unusual but helpful. This is unusual because I am a younger, black, heterosexual writer describing the converse of myself. And this is helpful because Malcolm’s life witness can be made more available to those populations more like my own who have not been privy to Malcolm’s genius and divine words. But Malcolm’s battle is more than engagement with me. Like theologian William Stringfellow, Malcolm went to war against the powers and principalities. “And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword” (Rev 6:4, KJV).

      As I have researched Malcolm’s life, many see him as civil war incarnate and internal strife—even the Antichrist. A letter to Malcolm read, “You should never use the word gay with the same breath with the Lord. He hates gay.” And another: “The Jesus in me loves you. But as I watched you on the TV set, I wept openly that the sweet and tender Jesus that I love so much would be distorted and misrepresented.”¹¹ All of this is complicated by Malcolm’s own inner strife. For many years, Malcolm saw himself this way. “I repressed my own feelings for a long, long time, thinking God viewed homosexuality as ugly, demonic, and sinful. Now I know it’s beautiful and God loves it.”¹²

      In this biography, one of the identities of Malcolm as the purveyor of war comes from his days as a civil rights activist. Malcolm asked me to recognize—and pinpoint—the role of the white volunteers and followers in the Civil Rights Movement. In Malcolm’s case, a key highlight came in 1961 when he was a Freedom Rider.¹³ Malcolm narrates how he and several others moved from the Freedom Ride itself to a subsequent visit to the University of the South (Sewanee).

      The staunchly traditional undergraduate student body remained all white. Encouraged by the interracialism of the nearby Highlander Folk School, local seminarians had been pressing for a full desegregation of the campus for several years, but university and church officials had refused to confront the issue, including a strict color bar at a popular on—campus restaurant leased to a local segregationist. As soon as Boyd and the other pilgrims arrived on campus and discovered that the restaurant remained segregated, he announced plans for a sit—in and a hunger strike. By Friday morning, however, Boyd had received assurances from church and campus officials that all of the university’s facilities would be desegregated in the near future. After the Presiding Episcopal Bishop of the United States, the Right Reverend Arthur C. Lichtenberger, issued a strong public statement endorsing the prayer pilgrimage and condemning racial discrimination, Boyd and his colleagues canceled the planned protests and departed for the (General) Convention in Detroit.¹⁴

      Malcolm writes me and comments on this historical account during the civil rights period. He laments that very little apology has taken place in institutional structures regarding racism. Malcolm writes me:

      It does seem to me that Sewanee has decided and tried to “bury” this and not include it in its public “history.” Remember the woman from Sewanee attending a