Two Hebrew words make a whole theology: and he believed. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 15:6 unpacks them with Aramaic precision, and the unpacking is worth the effort.
He believed in the Lord — and, the Targum adds, had faith in the Memra, the Word, of the Lord. And it was reckoned to him lizeku, for merit, for righteousness. Why? The Targum gives its own reason: because he parleyed not before Him with words.
That is striking. A verse earlier, Abraham had plenty of words — the complaint about Eliezer, the plea about his empty tent (Genesis 15:2). But when the promise of countless stars came, Abraham stopped negotiating. He did not haggle over the number. He did not ask for a sign first. He did not say how or when or are you sure.
The Targum's Memra — the divine Word through which God relates to the world — is not an abstraction to Abraham. It is someone he trusts enough to stop arguing with. And that, says the paraphrast, is what gets credited as righteousness. Not a theological formula. Not a finished creed. The moment a man stops bargaining with God and lets the promise stand.
The Maggid's lesson here is quiet: there is a time to argue with heaven, and there is a time to close your mouth. Abraham knew the difference (Genesis 15:6). Righteousness was not in his asking. It was in his falling silent.