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While Australia settles into for a customary Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of beach and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere feels, sadly, like no other.

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

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of immediate shock, sorrow and horror is shifting to anger and deep polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed concerns of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, vigorous government and institutional fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a moment for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so deeply diminished. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have experienced the hatred and dread of religious and ethnic targeting 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 profound vulnerability.

This is a time when I regret not having a stronger faith. I lament, because believing in people – in mankind’s capacity for kindness – has let us down so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is needed.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. First responders – law enforcement and medical staff, those who ran towards the danger to help fellow humans, 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 admirably championed by faith leaders. It was a call of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than dividing in a moment of targeted violence.

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

Unity, hope and love was the essence of faith.

‘Our public places may not look quite the same again.’

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

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the darkness, using the atrocity as a cynical chance to question Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous message of division from veteran agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the massacre before the site was even cold. Then read the words of leadership aspirants while the probe was ongoing.

Government has a daunting job to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and scared and looking for the light and, not least, explanations to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as likely, did such a significant open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have six guns in the family home when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly alerted of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired argument (or versions of it) that it’s people not guns that cause death. Of course, both things are true. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and keep guns away from its potential actors.

In this metropolis of profound beauty, of clear azure skies above sea and shore, the ocean and the coastline – our communal areas – may not seem entirely familiar again to the multitude who’ve noted that famous Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We yearn right now for comprehension and significance, for family, and perhaps for the consolation of aesthetics in culture or nature.

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 fear, anger, melancholy, bewilderment and loss we need each other now 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 portents are that cohesion in politics and society will be hard to find this long, draining summer.