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As the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday during languorous days of beach and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer mood seems, sadly, like no other.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to describe the collective temperament after the antisemitic terrorist attack on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah celebrations as one of mere ennui.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tone of initial shock, sorrow and terror is segueing to anger and deep division.

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed fears of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic official fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the right 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 particularly so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and fear of faith-based targeting on this land or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive stances but little understanding at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a period when I regret not having a greater faith. I mourn, because believing in people – in our capacity for compassion – has let us down so painfully. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have seen such extreme examples of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. First responders – police officers and paramedics, those who ran towards the danger to help others, some recognised but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the police tape still waved in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of social, religious and cultural unity 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 meaning of the Festival of Lights (illumination amid gloom), there was so much fitting evocation of the need for hope.

Togetherness, hope and compassion was the message of faith.

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

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

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

Observe the harmful rhetoric of division from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the statements of leadership aspirants while the investigation was still active.

Politics has a formidable job to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and scared and looking for the hope and, not least, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as probable, did such a large open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate protection? Like how could the accused attackers have six guns in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and consistently alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were subjected to that cliched line (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not guns that cause death. Naturally, both things are true. It’s feasible to simultaneously seek new ways to stop violent bigotry and keep guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this city of profound beauty, of pristine blue heavens above sea and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve observed that famous Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We yearn right now for understanding and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the solace of aesthetics in culture or the natural world.

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

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

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

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