Father Mozė Mitkevičius: just as men cannot give birth, women cannot be priests

Father Mozė Mitkevičius, vicar of Vilnius Archcathedral Basilica and a doctor of biblical theology, has stated that women cannot serve as priests, comparing it to the biological impossibility of men giving birth.

The priest, who initially studied law and worked at the State Tax Inspectorate before entering the clergy, shared his views in an interview with LRT Radio’s program “Pas Nemirą”. He discussed a range of topics, including faith, celibacy, and the role of women in the Church, as well as the scandals surrounding it.

Mitkevičius acknowledged that the perception of priests as distant and closed off from society persists, though he believes this stereotype is fading. “Times are changing. Priests are increasingly discovering themselves as civic, culture-loving, and socially engaged individuals,” he said. He emphasized that public engagement is no longer an exception for clergy but an opportunity to discuss faith in simple and understandable terms, helping to bridge the gap between the Church and society.

“It’s no longer a closed den where every conversation requires permission. On the contrary, it’s a space for more discussion with others. I find this naturalness very beautiful,” he added.

Reflecting on his early interactions, especially with those who rarely attend church, Mitkevičius noted that people often feel uncertain about how to address or behave around a priest, having forgotten religious customs. He stressed the importance of simplicity and a human approach in such situations. “Those who know me communicate very naturally. And that’s what I want most—that people approach me as a person, not just a priest,” he said. He believes that friendships with non-churchgoers broaden his perspective and help dispel old clichés that clergy are “from another world” or have come only to preach.

Mitkevičius also addressed his name, which often draws attention. Originally a nickname from his youth, “Mozė” (Moses) later became his chosen name, symbolizing a connection to biblical tradition where name changes are linked to mission and calling. “My name was not given by my parents—it was changed. In my youth, ‘Mozė’ was a nickname, and I had to explain why I wasn’t Moses. Now I have to explain why I am,” he said.

Raised in a Soviet-era environment where faith was not part of daily life, Mitkevičius recalled that religious traditions in his family were more formal, tied to sacraments and holidays. His grandmother, however, was deeply religious. “My parents were ordinary Soviet people. My grandmother was very religious, but for some reason, she didn’t pass on the faith to my mother. Maybe there was fear, although she herself was never afraid—neither to go to church nor to attend pilgrimages,” he said.

His most formative religious experiences came during summers spent with his grandmother. “It was like a marathon of indulgences—we traveled from one village to another, went on pilgrimages on foot, with prayers and hymns,” he recalled. These experiences left a lasting impression, teaching him lessons of freedom and trust. “My grandmother would let me loose in the crowd and find me later. We slept in haystacks or people’s barns. My piety arose through people. I had no fears, no suspicions. Like a child looking at the world with open eyes. I trusted people—and I still do,” he said.

Despite his grandmother’s hopes that he would become a priest, Mitkevičius initially chose a different path, studying law and working in public service. After graduating from Mykolas Romeris University, he worked at the State Tax Inspectorate for two years. However, his decision to change direction and enter the priesthood did not come suddenly.