And it's not a new phenomenon, not by a long shot. Let's turn to the story of Simon, one of the twelve sons of Jacob, and his struggle with envy.

Imagine the scene: Simon is on his deathbed, surrounded by his sons. This isn't just a private moment; it's a moment of profound reckoning. He’s not offering platitudes or empty blessings. Instead, he's confessing his deepest sin, a sin that gnawed at him his entire life. As we read in Legends of the Jews, Simon calls his sons together, ready to unburden himself (Ginzberg).

"I was the second son," he begins, recounting his birth and the meaning of his name, Simon – "because the Lord had heard her prayer," referring to his mother Leah. But this isn’t just a family history lesson. It’s a prelude to a dark confession. He describes himself as strong, fearless, but also… hard. "My heart was hard, and my liver unyielding, and my bowels without mercy." That's a chilling self-assessment.

And then he gets to the heart of it: his jealousy of Joseph. Remember Joseph? The favored son, the one with the colorful coat? "In the days of my youth I was jealous of Joseph, for our father loved him more than all the rest of us, and I resolved to kill him."

Can you feel the intensity of that statement? The sheer, raw hatred fueled by envy? According to Ginzberg’s retelling in Legends of the Jews, Simon admits that he was consumed by a "prince of temptation" that sent a "spirit of jealousy to take possession of me." He was blinded by it, unable to see Joseph as his brother, unable to consider the pain it would inflict on their father, Jacob.

He confesses that he spared neither his brother nor his father. It's a brutal admission of guilt. But there's a glimmer of something else here, isn't there? A recognition of divine intervention. "But his God and the God of his fathers sent His angel and saved him out of my hands."

So, what are we to make of Simon's deathbed confession? Is it merely a historical anecdote, a cautionary tale from a bygone era? Or does it speak to something deeper, something universal about the human condition? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even the strongest among us are vulnerable to the corrosive power of envy, but also that redemption, however late in life, is always possible. That even in confessing the wrong, we still find a way to tell the truth.