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As Australia winds down for a customary Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and blistering heat accompanied by the background of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the nation's summer mood feels, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a dramatic understatement to characterize the national temperament after the antisemitic terrorist attack on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere ennui.

Across the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of immediate shock, grief and horror is shifting 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 attuned to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, vigorous government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism with the freedom to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our faith in humanity is so sorely depleted. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and fear of faith-based persecution on this continent or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep churning out at us the trite instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive views but little understanding at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a time when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in humanity – in our potential for kindness – has failed us so painfully. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such profound instances of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. First responders – police officers and medical staff, those who ran towards the gunfire to help others, some publicly hailed but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the police tape still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of community, faith-based and ethnic solidarity was laudably promoted by faith leaders. It was a call of compassion and acceptance – of unifying rather than dividing in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Unity, hope and love was the essence of belief.

‘Our public places may not appear exactly as they did again.’

And yet segments of the political landscape responded so nauseatingly swiftly with division, blame and accusation.

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

Observe the dangerous message of division from veteran agitators of societal discord, exploiting the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the statements of leadership aspirants while the investigation was still active.

Government has a formidable task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning and frightened and seeking the hope and, not least, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as probable, did such a large open-air Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly insufficient protection? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the security agency has so publicly and repeatedly alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

How quickly we were treated to that tired line (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, both things are true. It’s feasible to at the same time pursue new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this metropolis of immense splendor, of pristine blue heavens above sea and sand, the water and the beaches – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We yearn right now for comprehension and significance, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in art or nature.

This weekend many Australians are calling off holiday gathering plans. Quiet contemplation will feel more appropriate.

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of anxiety, anger, sadness, bewilderment and grief we need each other more than ever.

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

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