Debt certainly isn't always a bad thing. A mortgage can help you

Hear the wisdom of Jean Chatzky, who spoke thus: “Debt certainly isn’t always a bad thing. A mortgage can help you afford a home. Student loans can be a necessity in getting a good job. Both are investments worth making, and both come with fairly low interest rates.” In these measured words lies the calm of a sage who has seen both prosperity and ruin. For she teaches that debt, often named as a curse and a chain, may also be a tool and a teacher. It is not the burden itself that destroys a person, but how one bears it. The same fire that consumes can also forge. The same river that drowns can carry one to new lands — if one learns how to steer.

In the world of gold and promise, many have feared the shadow of debt as though it were the mark of failure. Yet Chatzky reminds us that not all debts are born of folly. There exists a noble kind — debt as investment, where a person pledges tomorrow’s strength to build a greater today. A mortgage is such a vow — a covenant between one’s labor and one’s dwelling, a promise that binds effort to shelter. Likewise, student loans, though heavy, can be the price of enlightenment, the toll paid to cross the bridge of learning into the lands of opportunity. When wisely chosen and humbly managed, these debts are not chains but ladders.

Consider the parable of the Roman builder, who, in the time of Emperor Hadrian, wished to construct a bridge across the Tiber. The emperor would not grant him the gold, and so he borrowed from his peers, promising to repay them from the tolls the bridge would earn. Many mocked him for his debt, calling him reckless. Yet years later, his bridge stood firm while their fortunes crumbled. He repaid every coin and built another bridge besides. His debt had not been a prison but a seed — and because he tended it with discipline and foresight, it bore fruit.

This, then, is the heart of Chatzky’s wisdom: that not all borrowing is bondage. When debt is entered into with reason, guided by purpose, and guarded by prudence, it becomes an instrument of creation. To take on debt for fleeting pleasure is to enslave the future. But to take it on for education, home, or craft — that is to build the very foundation of freedom. Just as a tree must endure the weight of the earth to rise upward, so too must a person bear temporary weight to grow in strength and stature.

Yet beware — for the line between wise investment and reckless indulgence is thin as a blade. One must not borrow out of vanity or impatience, nor mistake desire for necessity. The ancients taught that “He who owes without purpose is already conquered.” The wise borrow not to escape hardship but to transform it. A low interest rate means little if one’s purpose is shallow. What matters most is not the number on the parchment, but the vision behind the vow — the intention that gives meaning to the debt.

Therefore, the lesson is this: treat debt not as an enemy to be feared, nor as a toy to be played with, but as a sacred trust. Before you borrow, ask yourself: “Does this burden serve my highest purpose? Will it bring forth knowledge, stability, or creation?” If so, embrace it with discipline, pay it with gratitude, and let it build your house of strength. But if it serves only vanity, cast it aside as you would a false idol, for such debt devours peace and poisons the spirit.

In your life, let prudence and vision walk hand in hand. Borrow for what endures — for the home that shelters generations, for the learning that shapes your destiny, for the craft that serves the world. And when the time of repayment comes, do not curse the cost, for it is the echo of your own courage. Remember always: the wise do not fear the weight they have chosen — they bear it gladly, knowing it carries them toward a greater tomorrow.

Thus, heed the words of Jean Chatzky: debt, like fire, is dangerous only to the careless. In the hands of the mindful, it lights the path to prosperity.