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As the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and cicada song, this year the country’s summer atmosphere feels, sadly, like no other.

It would be a dramatic understatement to describe the national disposition after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of the nation's urban centers – a tone of immediate surprise, grief and horror is segueing to fury and deep polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced concerns of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, energetic official fight against antisemitism with the freedom to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a moment for a national listening, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so sorely depleted. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and dread of religious and ethnic targeting on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the banal hot takes of those with blistering, polarizing views but little understanding at all of that profound vulnerability.

This is a time when I lament not having a greater spiritual belief. I lament, because believing in people – in our capacity for kindness – has let us down so acutely. A different source, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such profound instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. First responders – police officers and medical staff, those who charged into the danger to help fellow humans, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unheralded.

When the police tape still waved wildly all about Bondi, the necessity of social, religious and cultural unity was admirably promoted by faith leaders. It was a call of compassion and tolerance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a time of targeted violence.

Consistent with the symbolism of Hanukah (illumination amid gloom), there was so much appropriate evocation of the need for hope.

Togetherness, light and love was the message of faith.

‘Our shared community spaces may not appear exactly as they did again.’

And yet segments of the political landscape reacted so disgustingly quickly with division, finger-pointing and accusation.

Some politicians gravitated straight for the pessimism, using tragedy as a calculating chance to question Australia’s immigration policies.

Witness the dangerous message of division from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, exploiting the massacre before the site was even cold. Then consider the words of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Government has a daunting task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and frightened and looking for the light and, not least, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as likely, did such a large open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly insufficient security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the family home when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

How quickly we were subjected to that cliched argument (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, both things are valid. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent firearms away from its possible actors.

In this metropolis of immense splendor, of pristine azure skies above ocean and sand, the water and the beaches – our shared community spaces – may not look entirely familiar 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 comprehension and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the consolation of beauty in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling Christmas party plans. Quiet contemplation will feel more in order.

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of fear, outrage, melancholy, bewilderment and loss we require each other more than ever.

The comfort of togetherness – the binding force of the unity in the very word – is what we probably need most.

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