And indeed he is, in love of wealth, intense

“he is truly excessive in his love of wealth.”

And indeed, he is intense in his love of wealth.

The word ‎شَدِيد‎ means extremely tight, unable to be broken, like bonds on a captive that can’t be loosened.

It’s used for severe punishments that cannot be undone, for the strength of maturity from which you don’t return to childhood. You are set in your ways, extremely intense.

Intense about what? Out of your love of ‎الۡخَيۡر‎. The word literally means “good,” but in this context, it refers to wealth. The Quran uses it this way elsewhere:

But ‎خَيۡر‎ isn’t used for just any money. It’s used for abundant wealth, for lots of money.

You could be on minimum wage with almost nothing in your pocket, but you’re constantly dreaming of millions, thinking about Rolls-Royces, seven-star hotels, private jets.

You don’t have to be wealthy to be materialistic or to have intense love of wealth. You could have nothing and constantly think about money. Conversely, you could have everything and it doesn’t affect your heart.

Allah isn’t concerned with what you have in your hand. He’s concerned with what you have in your heart.

And it’s not just about money. You could be a janitor at a hotel working on the second floor, and someone on the third floor has a new vacuum cleaner, and you’re jealous.

You could be in an office, and someone got a chair with lumbar support while you still have the old chair, and you’re resentful. You could be in a classroom, and your chair has a scratch, and during break you switch with someone else’s.

This isn’t just about wealth. It’s about ‎الۡخَيۡر‎—wanting the very best of whatever you could possibly have.

Never being satisfied with what you have. Always wanting more, wanting better. Not satisfied with your car, your clothes, your house, your possessions. As children, never satisfied with your toys, your games. Never satisfied with your physical appearance.

The lam (‎ل‎) in ‎لِحُبِّ‎ indicates causation: because of his love of wealth, he becomes truly intense. How does this happen?

Look at the Arab in the opening scene. He’s willing to risk his own life, ride into almost certain death, because he’s dreaming of the treasure he might capture. That’s pretty intense testimony to how much he loves wealth, isn’t it?

People who could work regular jobs and be comfortable instead work 70, 80, 100 hours a week, killing themselves for that career, that position, that amount of money. They invest everything—time, health, relationships—into accumulating wealth.

Many multi-millionaires end up as patients in hospitals, in comas from what they’ve done to themselves.

When these people do have time off, how do they cope? They get drunk, they get high, they go to mind-numbing clubs and lose themselves. Why?

Because they’ve given 99% of their time to money, so they have no real human connections left, no genuine relationships. They can’t live with themselves, with their actual selves, so they need to forget who they are. They burn those brain cells away to avoid remembering what happened the night before.

There’s no lower life than that “high life.”

The Quraysh lived for these raids, these crimes they committed with great pride. The Quran captures their imagination, almost endorsing their excitement, and then delivers this devastating diagnosis.