You keep going back to it until it does.
When we are no longer impacted by the remembrance of the cost of our salvation we have, as Paul writes to the Colossians, "lost connection with the Head, from whom the whole body, supported and held together by its ligaments and sinews, grows as God causes it to grow" (Colossians 2:19).
The cross is the pumping of the heart that moves the blood that supplies life to the body.
Psalm 22 is a Messianic psalm, describing the work of Christ on the cross. Over David's story is superimposed HIS-tory.
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me…
Many bulls surround me;
stong bulls of Bashan encircle me.
Roaring lions tearing their prey
open their mouths against me.
I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint.
My heart has turned to wax;
it has melted away within me.
My strength is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;
you lay me in the dust of death.
Dogs have surrounded me;
a band of evil men has encircled me,
they have pierced my hands and my feet.
I count all my bones;
people stare and gloat over me.
They divide my garments among them
and cast lots for my clothing" —Psalm 22:1, 12-18.
The psalm is also wrapped in trust and tied up with the promises of victory.
"From you comes my praise in the great assembly;
before those who fear you will I fulfill my vows.
The poor will eat and be satisfied;
they who seek the Lord will praise him—
may your hearts live forever!
All the ends of the earth
will remember and turn to the Lord,
and all the families of the nations
will bow down before him,
for dominion belongs to the Lord
and he rules over the nations.
All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;
all who go down to the dust will kneel before him—
those who cannot keep themselves alive.
Posterity will serve him;
future generations will be told about the Lord.
They will proclaim his righteousness
to a people yet unborn—
FOR HE HAS DONE IT. —Psalm 22:25-31 (emphasis mine).
I remember hearing a comment from a person who left one church to go to another because he was tired of hearing the Gospel every Sunday. I was astounded, but I understand how easy it is to lose that profound appreciation for what Christ did for us on the cross. Today, we seldom hear the Gospel and can barely tolerate more than a brief nod at the celebration of the Lord's Supper. It is no longer central to who we are. Small wonder we have little impact on the rest of the world. We have become those people of "itching ears" (2 Timothy 4:4). The cross no longer moves us.
Hush, do I hear a faint heartbeat still?
I hope so, because you know what the result is when that heartbeat disappears.