Naming ceremony ideas: rituals, readings and what actually happens

By John Paul Fitzpatrick — Humanist Society Scotland celebrant

I get asked about naming ceremonies far more than people expect, usually by parents who've been to a christening or two but never a humanist one, and aren't quite sure what they'd be signing up for. So let's start with the honest answer: nobody is quite sure what a naming ceremony looks like, because it looks like whatever your family wants it to look like. That's not me dodging the question — it's the actual point of the thing. If you'd like the fuller picture of how I work with families on this, my naming ceremony page covers that. This post is the practical bit: what happens, in what order, and the ideas that tend to make a naming day feel unmistakably yours.

What a naming ceremony actually is

A humanist naming ceremony is a non-religious welcome for a baby or child — a chance to stand up in front of the people who matter and say, formally and out loud, "this is our child, this is their name, and here's who we're promising to be for them." There's no christening, no godparents in the traditional sense, no liturgy. It has no legal status whatsoever — registering a birth is a separate, entirely administrative step you do through the registrar, nothing to do with the ceremony at all. That's actually freeing: because nothing here is required by law, every single element is a choice. You're not filling in the gaps of a fixed template; you're building the whole thing from what's true about your family.

The shape a naming day tends to take

Every ceremony I write is different, but most naming days settle into a similar rhythm, because it's a rhythm that works:

A welcome. I open by welcoming everyone and setting the tone — often with a little warmth, sometimes a laugh, always a sense of why everyone's actually there.

The child's story so far. This is usually my favourite part to write. How the baby or child came to be part of the family, the pregnancy or the adoption journey, the arrival, and whatever personality has already made itself known in the months since — the sleep habits, the facial expressions, the nickname that's already stuck.

Guide parents step forward. In place of godparents, most families choose guide parents — the aunties, uncles, best pals or cousins they'd like to have a lifelong, special presence in their child's life. During the ceremony, the guide parents make their own spoken promise: to be there, to turn up, to be a steady and supportive adult as the child grows. It's one of the most genuinely moving moments in any naming ceremony I've written, because it's a handful of adults choosing, out loud, to show up for a child who has no idea any of this is happening.

A symbolic moment. Something with a bit of ritual weight — most commonly signing a keepsake naming certificate while everyone has a drink and a blether, though some families prefer a candle lit for the child, or a tree or shrub planted that grows alongside them.

A toast. We finish by raising a glass to the child's future — simple, warm, and the cue for the party to properly start.

Ideas for making it yours

The structure above is a scaffold, not a script. The details are where a naming ceremony stops being generic and starts being unmistakably about your child. Some ideas families have used well:

Readings and a poem. A short reading — from a favourite book, a poem that means something to you as parents, or a few lines written by a grandparent — gives the ceremony a literary heartbeat without it feeling like a lecture.

A shared object. Some families bring something physical into the ceremony — a blanket knitted by a grandmother, a piece of jewellery to be kept for the child, a book each guest signs the inside cover of. Small things carry a surprising amount of weight when a whole room is watching.

Siblings taking part. If there's an older brother or sister, giving them a small role — holding something, saying a line, standing up front with Mum and Dad — usually becomes the moment everyone remembers, for better and for funnier.

Multi-generational touches. Grandparents reading a few words, a family recipe or tradition mentioned in the child's story, a name chosen partly in honour of someone who came before — these threads tie a naming day to the wider family story, not just the immediate one.

None of this needs to be complicated. A ceremony with two readings and a candle can feel just as rich as one with five rituals and a live piper, provided it's built around what's actually true of your family.

It's genuinely flexible

Because a naming ceremony carries no legal weight, there's no requirement about where or when it happens. I've written naming ceremonies for a living room with twelve people in it, a marquee in a garden with a hundred, a hired hall alongside a full family lunch, and a lochside spot chosen because it meant something to the parents. Some families fold the ceremony into a bigger gathering — a first birthday, a christmas visit when everyone's already together — and some want it entirely its own occasion. Both are exactly as valid, and I'm happy to write for whichever shape suits yours, whatever that family looks like.

A ceremony that can come full circle

Some of the naming days I've written have come after a wedding I conducted for the same couple years earlier — the joy of writing a family's story once, then getting invited back to write the next chapter of it. Whether it's a first child, a family adding a guide parent for an older one, or a ceremony held later so a far-flung grandparent could be there in person, I take the time to get the details right — the ones only you would think to mention.

On cost

I don't quote a flat price for naming ceremonies, because they vary so much in size and shape — what I charge is agreed individually with each family. Get in touch and I'll come back with a straightforward quote, no hard sell. You'll find more naming and cost questions answered on my naming ceremony FAQ.