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As the nation settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of coast and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the country’s summer mood feels, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to characterize the collective disposition after the antisemitic terrorist attack on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah festivities as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of initial surprise, grief and terror is segueing to anger and deep polarization.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced fears of the Jewish community are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are sensitive to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, energetic official crackdown against antisemitism with the freedom to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so sorely diminished. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have experienced the animosity and dread of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the trite hot takes of those with blistering, divisive stances but no sense at all of that profound fragility.

This is a period when I lament not having a stronger spiritual belief. I lament, because having faith in humanity – in mankind’s potential for compassion – has failed us so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have seen such profound examples of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – police officers and medical staff, those who charged into the danger to aid others, some recognised but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the police tape still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of community, faith-based and cultural unity was laudably promoted by religious figures. It was a message of love and tolerance – of unifying rather than dividing in a moment of targeted violence.

In keeping with the symbolism of the Festival of Lights (light amid gloom), there was so much fitting evocation of the need for lightness.

Unity, light and love was the message of faith.

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

And yet segments of the political landscape reacted so disgustingly swiftly with division, blame and recrimination.

Some elected officials moved straight for the pessimism, using tragedy as a cynical opportunity to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the dangerous rhetoric of disunity from longstanding agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read 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 mourning and frightened and seeking the hope and, importantly, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as likely, did such a large public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly insufficient protection? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so publicly and repeatedly warned of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were subjected to that tired argument (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, both things are true. It’s feasible to simultaneously pursue new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this city of immense beauty, of pristine azure skies above ocean and sand, the ocean and the beaches – our shared community spaces – may not seem entirely familiar again to the multitude who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We yearn right now for understanding and significance, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of aesthetics in culture or nature.

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

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

The reassurance of togetherness – the human glue of the unity in the very word – is what we probably need most.

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