And she says so in clear terms in a recent piece for Christianity Today. She writes:
I've read and heard a lot lately from Christians who suggest that we should be willing to "engage" The Da Vinci Code, so that we can be a part of the "cultural conversation." Believers are touting the upcoming movie as an "opportunity for evangelism" and even an incentive to bolster our own faith.
Baloney.
This film is based on a book that wears its heresy and blasphemy as a badge of honor, and I intend to stay far away from it.
I get lots of calls to do interviews about The Da Vinci Code, but I duck as many of them as I can. Basically, I hate talking about DVC because I have a personal relationship with Jesus—and he isn't a proto-feminist goddess-cultic with a weak personality that could have been simply co-opted by power-hungry misogynists.
I fully appreciate Nicolosi's anger (and I think it's a righteous anger) and frustration. But I think she goes a bit too far. My frustration is that Christian reaction to TDCV has been presented, by both some Christians and some media sources, as being limited to one of two possibilities: 1) attack TDVC and condemn everything about it, including questions that readers (and, soon, viewers) might have, or 2) encourage people to read the novel, see the movie, and then engage in "dialogue," "conversation," and "discussion."
The fact is, not everyone who has a question about TDVC is necessarily attacking Christianity. In other words, while there are many who are using the novel to say ridiculous and even hateful things about the Church, there are many people who have honest questions. On the other hand, there isn't much good to be found in encouraging people to read or watch junk, especially bigoted, intellectually-rotten junk. We would never encourage people to watch pornography so we could have a "discussion about it." On the other hand, we shouldn't be afraid to talk about sexuality, the dangers of pornography, and a healthy Christian understanding of sexuality.
So, I have tried to do the following: defend the Faith against attacks, explain the Faith to those who have legitimate and sincere questions, and teach the Faith to those Christians who want to know this or that because of something TDVC-related. The difficulty of such an approach, as I find out on a regular basis, is that I am sometimes trying to do two or three things at once. This is especially true in interviews, where I find myself being an apologist, catechist, evangelist, author, and theologian all at once. And I sometimes fail. Which makes it frustrating.
I do agree whole-heartedly with Nicolosi that when Christians are faced with unfair and clearly bigoted questions, we shouldn't feel badly about walking away or refusing to respond. After all, when a questioner assumes the worst of you and/or the Church and refuses to reconsider his position, it's time to shake the dust off of our sandals. But being asked, "Why does the Church hate women?" is different than being asked, "I don't understand why women cannot be priests. Can you explain?" Sincere truth-seekers deserve answers. Bigots and jerks do not. Telling the difference can be exhausting, but it's a necessary and important work to undertake.