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While the nation settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and blistering heat accompanied by the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere seems, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to characterize the national disposition after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere ennui.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate shock, grief and terror is segueing to anger and bitter division.

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed concerns of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, vigorous official fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to demonstrate against genocide.

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

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 humanity – in our capacity for compassion – has failed us so painfully. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – police officers and paramedics, those who charged into the gunfire to aid others, some recognised but for the most part unnamed and unsung.

When the barrier cordon still waved in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of community, religious and ethnic solidarity was laudably promoted by faith leaders. It was a call of love and tolerance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

Consistent with the meaning of the Festival of Lights (illumination amid darkness), there was so much appropriate evocation of the need for lightness.

Unity, hope and love was the message of belief.

‘Our shared community spaces may not look quite the same again.’

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

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

Observe the dangerous message of disunity from longstanding agitators of Australian racial division, capitalizing on the attack before the site was even cold. Then read the statements of political figures while the probe 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 hope and, importantly, explanations to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as probable, did such a large public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly insufficient security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have six guns in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and consistently warned of the threat 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 simultaneously pursue new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and keep firearms away from its potential perpetrators.

In this metropolis of immense beauty, of clear azure skies above sea and shore, the ocean and the beaches – our communal areas – may not look entirely familiar again to the many who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We yearn right now for comprehension and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in art or the natural world.

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

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of fear, outrage, sadness, bewilderment 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 sadly, all of the portents are that unity in public life and the community will be elusive this extended, enervating summer.