The Washington Monument stands 555 feet at the top of a hill in a wide open area with a largely humid, Mid-Atlantic climate. If you told me it gets struck by lightning all the time, I wouldn't doubt you. But this is no time for weather science. This is something else entirely.
Regardless of your belief system, whether you're left, right or center. Moderate or radical. By whatever name you call your god, whether it's Yahweh or Zeus, Raijin or Odin, it's deep in the human race to believe there's a man in the sky who gets angry from time to time. And you won't like him when he's angry. Because when he disapproves of the shit we're pulling, he will rain down ribbons of zizzing hot, electrostatic death rays out of the ends of his fingertips and then go back to his cloud and sleep like a baby. It's a primordial thing with us. Notice Emperor Palpatine's weapon of choice was always shooting Force lightning at you instead of, say, a candlestick.
I don't claim to be the biggest Bible scholar in the world. But we all need to know how to take a hint because all of this has been laid out for us in the course syllabus thousands of years ago. Plagues, violence, upheaval, famine, infestations followed by creepy lightning strikes? That is straight up Book of Revelation 11:19. With a shot of Indiana Jones:
Then God's temple in heaven was opened, and within his temple was seen the ark of his covenant. And there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, an earthquake and a great hailstorm.
It doesn't get any clearer than this. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look up the stuff about how to repent for all my sins. While sitting in the safest, most earthquake-proof part of the house and wait for the wrath of God to come our way. We had a nice run there for a while, but we can't say we didn't collectively bring this shit on ourselves.