I am writing today about some decisions that I needed to make on a recent index. In the grand scheme of the index, these decisions only affected a few entries. I am tempted to brush these off as not very important and not worth discussing. Yet much of indexing is about paying attention to the details without getting lost in the details. And I think this is a unique situation that illustrates an important point about term selection. At least, it made me sit up and think carefully as I was working.
A good index encapsulates two different goals, which can sometimes seem like they are in opposition to each other. The index needs to be both a reflection of what the author has written and be an attempt to clearly communicate with the reader. Lose one of these aspects, and the index ceases to function.
Term selection is key to achieving both of these goals. The terms used in the index need to both match the text and how the reader is likely to search. Ideally the author and the reader are in alignment, but sometimes the author uses different language than what the reader might expect. In those situations, the index may need to bridge the gap.
I recently ran into this issue when writing the index for Saint Paul the Pharisee: Jewish Apostle to All Nations, by Father Stephen De Young (Ancient Faith Publishing, 2024).
If you are familiar with Christianity, the title may be a hint that the author is taking a different tact with terminology. While Paul was a pharisee prior to his conversion, he is now more commonly known as the Apostle Paul, or Paul the Apostle. Yet here Fr. Stephen is emphasizing Paul’s Jewishness.
In the book’s Introduction, Fr. Stephen addresses this question of terminology:
Throughout this book, I have deliberately eschewed certain language. This language is certainly acceptable and has become the usual language of the Church. However, familiar terminology can sometimes be misleading. By using the word Messiah instead of Christ, community instead of church, or Torah instead of law, I hope to unsettle commonly held notions and help the reader reassess Paul in his historical context, rather than project the experience of present-day Christians into the past.
This shift in terminology also extends to names, which is where I noticed the biggest difference in regards to the index.
In addition to “Paul the Pharisee,” Fr. Stephen also frequently refers to Paul by his former name, Saul of Tarsus. Jesus is referred to as “Jesus of Nazareth,” rather than Jesus Christ. A figure such as the Apostle John, also known as John the Evangelist, John the Theologian, or John the Divine, is here referred to as John, the son of Zebedee. None of these names are incorrect, but they are names that are less commonly used. They support the author’s focus on Paul and the early Church’s Jewish context and alerts readers that the author is taking a different approach.
From an indexing standpoint, do I follow Fr. Stephen’s lead? By using these names, I would provide continuity with the text and reinforce the point that Fr. Stephen is trying to make. But will readers still recognize these names in the index, outside of the context of the text? I am not helping anyone if I include names and terms that readers are unlikely to recognize.
In the end, I decided to lean into the author’s terminology. Christians form the primary audience for this book and, I assume, are familiar enough with with these Biblical figures, even if these are not the names typically used.
Paul I simply indexed as “Paul.” As the subject of the book, I decided a gloss was unnecessary. I also included a See cross-reference from Saul of Tarsus, for any readers looking under Saul and to keep all discussions of Saul/Paul in a single array.
I indexed Jesus as “Jesus of Nazareth,” with a subheading for “as Messiah,” to reflect how the author discusses Jesus. I indexed the other Biblical figures as is (“Peter,” “Silas,” “Timothy,’ etc…) except for when a gloss or tag was needed to disambiguate (for example, “James, brother of the Lord’ and “James, son of Zebedee”). This is again following the author’s approach and trusting that readers will recognize these names.
I did, however, include glosses for several of the provinces and cities discussed, such as “Achaia (province)” and “Perge (city),” especially the less well-known places (I didn’t include glosses for cities like Athens and Rome). This may not have been necessary, but I personally like knowing where things are and what things are, so as a reader I would have appreciated the differentiation.
As I wrote at the beginning, these names form a small proportion of the overall index. Was it really worth spending time considering how best to balance the author’s approach versus reader expectations? There are plenty of other discussions in the book, such as discussions about Paul’s missionary journeys, the history of the early Church, and theological issues that Paul addresses in his epistles, that I also wanted to get right.
And yet names matter and terminology matters. The index would have presented a different message if I had used more conventional names for these figures and the index would have appeared disjointed from the text. Writing a good index is often about paying attention to the details so that the entire index works together as a whole and in conjunction with both the text and readers. The trick is to see both the details and the whole. It can be easy to lose sight of the big picture.
For this book, while the author opted to shift the terminology to make a point, I decided that most readers would still be able to follow along in the index. I didn’t need to include much in the way of signposts and clarifications. But for other books, extensive use of cross-references and glosses may be necessary. While reflecting the text and the author’s intentions, the index also needs to be responsive to readers. Thankfully, we have tools to bridge that gap.
The first step, though, is paying attention to the language used by the author. The next step is considering the audience. Do the two match? From here you can select terms and write an index that is clear and recognizable to all.