The level of faith in God required to endure such tragedy and continue on with the church was a testament to the devotion of my fathers. Down through the years, my family believed steadfastness like this solidly proved the truthfulness of Mormon doctrine.

Not necessarily. People get tough for all sorts of reasons, including an utter lack of options. With three kids in the ground and more still to feed, it's not as if the Kirbys could go bowling. Putting their heads down and moving forward may have been the only alternative.

I don't want to take anything away from my pioneer ancestors, but I don't want to give them more credit than they're due, either. Martyrdom, suffering, deprivation and unwavering devotion prove the intensity of belief, not the truthfulness or even common sense of it.

My church raised me on the saintliness of my Mormon pioneer ancestors, an honest folk persecuted for no reason other than that we were God's favorites. Satan raged against us because we had The Truth.

I heard all the faith-promoting stories about Haun's Mill, Carthage Jail and Nauvoo, Ill. We were whipped, burned out, murdered, robbed and stripped of our civil rights. The U.S. sent an army against us. All of this proved we had The Truth, right?

Unfortunately, such a one-sided view of our history presented a problem when I finally learned that in 1857, Mormons (including my great-grandfather) slaughtered 120 defenseless men, women and children at Mountain Meadows.

As unforgivable as that was, just as troubling to me were our subsequent efforts to dodge The Truth, to cover it up, to water it down, to pretend that it never happened or, worse, to blame it on others.

I heard all the self-serving explanations for Mountain Meadows, ranging from the deliberately obfuscating to the patently ludicrous: "Indians did it." "The immigrants had it coming." "We only shot them a little."

Historians, notably the inestimable Juanita Brooks, who tried to bring the facts of the massacre to light, were ostracized by fellow Mormons and even threatened by church leaders. We couldn't, it seemed, handle The Truth about ourselves.

Considering what we believed about ourselves, it's understandable that we didn't want to talk about it. After all, if enduring persecution is all the proof we need of having The Truth, what's proven when we're the ones causing it?

Faith can be a tricky business. It's a valuable lesson we should have learned years ago. As we commemorate the 150th anniversary of Mountain Meadows next week, we can start by realizing that faith is something we owe God, not other human beings.

rkirby@sltrib.com

* For a schedule of events pertaining to the 150th anniversary of the Mountain Meadows Massacre, see Page E4.