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As the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of coast and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and cicada song, this year the country’s summer atmosphere seems, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to describe the collective temperament after the antisemitic violent assault on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah celebrations as one of mere ennui.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of the nation's urban centers – a tone of initial surprise, sorrow and terror is segueing to fury and bitter polarization.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Just as, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic official fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so sorely depleted. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and fear of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or anywhere else.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the banal hot takes of those with inflammatory, divisive stances but little understanding at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a period when I lament not having a stronger spiritual belief. I mourn, because having faith in people – in mankind’s potential for kindness – has let us down so acutely. Something else, a greater power, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme examples of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – police officers and paramedics, those who charged into the gunfire to aid fellow humans, some recognised but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the police tape still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of community, faith-based and ethnic solidarity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a call of love and acceptance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a moment of targeted violence.

In keeping with the meaning of Hanukah (light amid gloom), there was so much appropriate reference of the need for hope.

Unity, light and compassion was the message of belief.

‘Our public places may not look quite the same again.’

And yet elements of the Australian polity responded so nauseatingly quickly with division, blame and recrimination.

Some elected officials moved straight for the pessimism, using the atrocity as a cynical chance to question Australia’s immigration policies.

Witness the dangerous rhetoric of disunity from veteran agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the site was even cold. Then read the words of leadership aspirants while the probe was still active.

Government has a daunting task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and frightened and seeking the light and, importantly, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as probable, did such a significant public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a woefully inadequate protection? Like how could the alleged killers have six guns in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so openly and consistently alerted of the threat of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were subjected to that tired line (or iterations of it) that it’s people not weapons that kill. Naturally, each point are valid. It’s possible to at the same time pursue new ways to prevent violent bigotry and prevent firearms away from its potential perpetrators.

In this metropolis of profound splendor, of pristine azure skies above ocean and sand, the water and the beaches – our communal areas – may not seem quite the same again to the many who’ve observed that famous Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We long right now for understanding and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in art or nature.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling Christmas party plans. Reflective solitude will feel more in order.

But this is perhaps counterintuitively counterintuitive. For in these days of anxiety, outrage, melancholy, confusion and loss we require each other now more than ever.

The reassurance of community – the binding force of the unity in the very word – is what we likely need most.

But tragically, all of the indicators are that cohesion in public life and the community will be elusive this extended, draining summer.