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As Australia settles into for a customary Christmas holiday during languorous days of beach and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the nation's summer mood feels, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a significant understatement to characterize the collective disposition after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tone of immediate shock, sorrow and horror is shifting to fury and bitter division.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced fears of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Just as, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, vigorous government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism with the freedom to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in humanity is so deeply depleted. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have experienced the hatred and fear of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the trite instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive views but no sense at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a period when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I lament, because believing in humanity – in mankind’s potential for kindness – has failed us so acutely. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such profound examples of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – law enforcement and medical staff, those who ran towards the gunfire to aid others, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the police tape still waved in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of social, faith-based and ethnic unity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a call of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than dividing in a time of targeted violence.

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

Togetherness, light and love was the message of belief.

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

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

Some politicians gravitated straight for the pessimism, using tragedy as a cynical opportunity to question Australia’s migration rules.

Witness the dangerous message of division from longstanding agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of political figures while the probe was still active.

Government has a daunting job to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning 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 probable, did such a significant open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully inadequate security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the family home when the domestic intelligence organisation has so openly and repeatedly warned of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How quickly we were subjected to that cliched line (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not guns that kill. Naturally, each point are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously seek new ways to prevent violent bigotry and prevent firearms away from its potential perpetrators.

In this city of immense beauty, of clear azure skies above sea and sand, the water and the beaches – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the many who’ve noted that famous Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

We yearn right now for comprehension and significance, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of aesthetics in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Quiet contemplation will feel more appropriate.

But this is perhaps somewhat against instinct. For in these days of anxiety, outrage, sadness, bewilderment and grief we require each other more than ever.

The reassurance 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 politics and society will be hard to find this extended, draining summer.