Your question is unfortunately all too familiar.  It seems like every week there is another news story of one Jew or group of Jews discrediting another.  In Jewish communities across the world individuals are made to feel self-conscious or inadequate in their personal practices and observances.   This seems to fly in the face of many values and principles in halachah which stress the need for ahavat Yisrael (love of our fellow Jew) and kavod ha-briyot (ensuring proper human dignity).  The Mishnah(Avot 1:6) implores us to be dan le-kaf zechut – to judge everyone favorably.

Some of the most intense cases of this occur in the realm of kashrut.  Since it is impossible to know everything that comes into someone else’s kitchen and how they prepare it, many people resort to other ways of determining whether they can rely on the kashrut of someone else.  Often this involves passing superficial judgment on an individual or a family.  The logic often goes:” if this woman wears pants and I wear only skirts, she must not be as observant as me.  Therefore I cannot trust her kashrut.”  It seems like this logic stems from the fact that Halacha disqualifies people who publicly desecrate the Shabbat from serving as witnesses because they no longer have ne’emanut (trustworthiness) in matters of Jewish law.  However, the disqualification of those who publicly desecrate Shabbat is not necessarily because of their lack of observance but because of the deep theological and sociological ramifications of publicly desecrating Shabbat.  Theologically, we know that Shabbat serves as a sign and reminder of God as Creator of the world and as the One who took the Jewish people out of Egypt.  Sociologically, in a traditional community one who publicly desecrates the Shabbat shows that he/she is not concerned with adhering to communal norms.  Many contemporary authorities hold that if someone displays a connection to the Jewish people and a belief in God despite lack of observance they are not disqualified in the same way since we can no longer make the same theological or sociological conclusions.

Certainly when it comes to how someone dresses, for which there is a wide range of legitimate halachic opinions, it is very difficult to draw any conclusions of that person’s religious practice in other areas.  Furthermore, it is reasonable to assume that if someone is an active member of an Orthodox synagogue that they know the norms of kashrut and would not intentionally cause someone else to deviate from their norms.

As demonstrated above, a strong case can be made to be more trusting of members of the community when it comes to kashrut.  However, the reality is that people will continue to pass judgment and be critical.  Furthermore, it is important to recognize that there are many chumrot (stringencies) to which some people adhere in kashrut and all areas of halacha which others don’t.  In order to strike a balance between scrupulous personal observance and the values of community, Jewish unity and kavod ha-briyot, I believe that more open communication is necessary.  Many synagogues have published communal norms and standards of kashrut, which the rabbi develops based on his understanding of halacha and the level of observance in his community.  In order to invite people over for meals, members of the synagogue must agree to follow these norms.  It is also important for people to be able to ask questions rather than guess for themselves if a certain family’s or individual’s practice is “up to par.”   We are often too concerned about offending people that we refrain from asking difficult questions.  In our desire not to offend we wind up being more offensive.  The importance of open and clear communication is one of the key messages of the Kamtza and Bar Kamtza stories which you referenced – the entire story unfolded because a messenger accidentally invited Bar Kamtza instead of Kamtza to his master’s party.

Thank you for this great question, which is actually a bit more complicated than one might have initially thought.    Halacha provides clear guidelines for many areas of life regarding what is permitted, what is prohibited, and what is obligated/required.  The laws of food and kashrut are some of the most common and popular when it comes to understanding and explaining these guidelines.  Thus, we are permitted to eat the meat of a kosher animal which was properly slaughtered and prepared.  We are forbidden to eat meat and milk together or the meat of a non-kosher animal.  We are obligated and required to eat Matzah on the first night of Passover and to enjoy three meals on Shabbat.  As is true in all areas of Jewish law, there is much debate over the details of the laws of kashrut and over their application in our contemporary society, but on the whole these laws are very straight forward.

Beyond the strict technicalities of whether a given food is kosher, there is a wide corpus of writings from our tradition addressing the ethics of kashrut.  Nahmanides (Rabbi Moses ben Nachman, 1194-1270), a towering figure in our tradition offers a  wonderful explanation of the Torah’s directive “Ye shall be holy; for I HaShem your G-d am holy” (Leviticus 19:2).  He explains that one could follow all the technical aspects of Halacha and still be a “disgusting person with the Torah’s permission.”  We are therefore commanded to be holy in emulation of God so that we internalize the Torah’s deeper message and aspirations.  In other words, just because something is permitted, it is not necessarily desired or conductive to positive religious growth. 

There are many areas in life where we can point to sources in the Torah and our tradition in order to develop a greater ethic or internalization of the Torah’s values.  One strong example is the need to care for ourselves and our bodies.  Twice in Deuteronomy chapter 4 we are warned “watch yourself/ves very carefully.”  Though clearly taken out of its original context, the Talmud (Bracot 32) reads this phrase to mean more literally “protect your body.”  Later authorities debate whether this Talmudic reading creates only a negative prohibition against actively endangering oneself or if it also creates a positive commandment to proactively guard one’s life.  One could quote a myriad of sources which indicate, or could be interpreted to say that one must proactively guard their body and their health, so that eating healthy, nutritional food is one of the key aspirations of an individual seeking to internalize the Torah’s message and ethos.  Regarding your example of farmed vs. wild salmon, a strong case can be made that based on the need to protect and care for our bodies, it is a mitzvah or positive religious act to purchase the wild salmon.  However, an equally cogent case could be made to say that the Torah and Halacha do not address your question and that the Talmudic passage should be read much more narrowly as only prohibiting deliberately putting oneself in harm’s way.

It is also important to note that often the Torah’s values conflict with each other.  While proper nutrition may very well be an authentic Jewish value, it must be balanced with concerns of the economic strains of buying the more expensive wild fish (especially when one considers the expenses of living a committed Jewish life which may include synagogue membership, day school tuition for several children, kosher food, etc.), ecological concerns of the rapidly depleting supply of wild fish due to unsustainable fishing practices, and the ethical concerns of the welfare of the workers at every step of the supply chain.

I believe that there is great religious value in caring for ourselves which includes making nutrition a priority, and there is great value in consciously purchasing salmon and other food that is nutritious and healthful.  However, given the strong debate among authorities, Halacha’s relative silence on the topic, and competing religious values I would not say that it is a Mitzvah in the technical sense of the term, and it is certainly not obligatory to make such a choice.  To be sure it is a wonderful step in developing and internalizing the Torah’s values and in inculcating a sense of kedushah (holiness). 

My heart goes out to you and your family for the loss of your son and the tremendous pain that I’m sure you’ve experienced.  I cannot even begin to imagine how much the suffering is exacerbated by withholding the information from your mother and the strain that this silence has placed on your relationship with your sister.

While there is no exact halachic (Jewish legal) precedent to follow in a situation like this, there is one story from the Bible that immediately comes to mind: the sale of Joseph by his brothers and its impact on Jacob their father.  The rabbis tell us that for the entire time Jacob was separated from Joseph, Jacob was not comforted.  Though the other brothers  told Jacob that Joseph had been killed and even shown him Joseph’s coat dipped in blood, Jacob was able to sense that something was not right.  As you are already experiencing, your mother is able to sense that something is not right when you try to answer her questions about your son. 

Another important detail from the story of Jacob and Joseph is how the brothers eventually told Jacob that Joseph was alive.  They were concerned that Jacob was too weak to handle the shocking news that Joseph was in fact alive and well, after all these years.  They enlisted Serach, the daughter of Asher to tell Jacob that Joseph was alive and had attained a position of power in Egypt.  Serach had the unique capacity to know the proper time to tell Jacob in a way that would not shock or overwhelm him.  Our Rabbis teach that because of her sensitivity in breaking the news to Jacob she lived forever.  The character of Serach teaches the importance of how we break news to people in a vulnerable or compromised state.  Obviously this must be done with extreme care and sensitivity.  Telling your mother of the death of your son – her grandson – is an extremely difficult task.  In addition to the intense emotions and shock surrounding the death, you also have to explain face the fact that this information was withheld for so long.  I would suggest consulting with her doctors and caregivers to confirm that she is healthy enough to handle such news, and to get their suggestions on how best to give her the news.  

I think that it is important to tell your mother of your son’s death.  It is unfair for her to be denied the opportunity to mourn her grandson.  It is unfair to her and your son for your mother to be led to think that he is neglecting their relationship.  It is also unfair for you to carry the burden of this terrible secret every time you speak with your mother and to be denied the motherly comfort that only she can provide.    I hope that your family is able to find some comfort after the terrible loss you have experienced.  The utmost discretion and sensitivity must be exercised in telling your mother what happened, but ultimately this is probably the best move for her, for you and for your family.

Halachah (Jewish law) requires that a grave be marked by a monument.  The monument serves three primary purposes: a) to mark the grave so that priests avoid coming into contact with the dead thereby rendering them impure; b) to designate the burial spot so family and friends may visit c) show honor to the deceased.  There are no binding rules about the size, shape or content of such a marker, however there is agreement among halachic authorities that the marker should not be ostentatious and serve as a dignified memorial.  There is also widespread agreement that minimally the marker should include the full name of the deceased (Hebrew and vernacular), the date of birth and the date of death (Hebrew and vernacular).  It is also common to include the familial relationships of the deceased (i.e., wife, mother, daughter, etc.).  It is also appropriate and very much within the norms of tradition to include an epitaph – which may be a citation from the Bible or other Jewish sources or may be in the vernacular.  The epitaph should encapsulate the values and personality of the deceased. 

There are many images that are included on traditional Jewish gravestones including the star of David, the priestly hands (indicating that the deceased was a Kohen) candlesticks for a woman, etc.  However, traditionally Jewish gravestones do not include etchings or depictions of the deceased.  The reason for this is twofold:  There is a general concern against physical depictions, especially in places where people come to pray, because of the Bible’s stricture against idolatry and the forming of graven images.  Secondly, we strive to remember the spiritual qualities and values of the deceased – for these are what truly endure forever.  Though there is no absolute prohibition against such etchings and depictions, they are not normative in Jewish tradition.  It is very possible that there are subcultures that do allow and even encourage these depictions but they are almost surely not religious groups or burial societies.