5 More Spooky Stories In The Bible (And Why They’re In There)

in an endless stream of horror sequels. (Looking at you Final Destination. Or Saw. Or Friday the 13th.)

Believe it or not, the Bible is no different. While we definitely don’t need another Amityville movie, a fresh string of spooky stories from scripture can do something for us no horror movie ever could—help us get a better understanding of God, the way He’s worked in the past, and what He might be up to today.

If you missed our first set of spooky stories from the Bible—holes gobbling people up, conjuring the ghost of a dead prophet, and an army of skeletons—you can find it here. If you’re ready for some fresh bone-chilling Bible, read on. (Like most horror movies, you don’t have to complete part 1 for part 2 to make sense. Just hang on… and don’t turn out the lights.)

Fire and Brimstone… Literally

The Day After Tomorrow’s got nothing on the ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Known for their wickedness and debauchery, the twin cities had gotten to such a state that God decided to destroy them. Before the big day, God showed his hand to a man named Abraham.

Years earlier, God had entered into a special friendship with Abraham, promising to make him into a great nation if he would leave behind his old homeland and follow God to a new place.

Abraham must have felt pretty secure in that friendship, because in Genesis 18, he proceeds to try to talk God off the time-to-destroy-the-cities cliff. He starts by asking God if he will still destroy the cities if 50 righteous people could be found there. God agrees to relent if he can find 50 good people.

Abe then proceeds to drop the number to 45, then 40, then 30, then 20, finally landing on 10. If 10 righteous people can be found, God agrees not to destroy those wretched hives of scum and villany (that’s a Star Wars joke, mom. Just keep reading.)

Sodom and Gomorrah don’t have a lot going for them, because God can’t even find 10 righteous people there. But as a mercy, God agrees to rescue Abraham’s extended family who are living in one of the doomed cities—his nephew, Lot, and his wife, and kids.

Two angels walk into Sodom—and after a wild night where the prominent men of the town try to rape them, and the angels strike them with blindness—Lot’s family is rushed out of town. Unable to flee to the nearby mountains, God allows Lot’s family to take shelter in the tiny town of Zoar.

As soon as they cross into the city, the fireworks begin. Scripture says that God "rained on Sodom and Gomorrah sulfur and fire out of heaven,” an unnatural disaster that “overthrew those cities, and all the valley, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground.”

Fire and brimstone is an old turn of phrase used to describe messages of judgment, wrath, and punishment… and its name comes directly from this story. (Brimstone is an old English name for sulfur.)

As if the desolation of two major cities by fire and burning rocks that smell like farts wasn’t enough, Lot’s wife has a pretty bad day too. On their way out, the angels had warned Lot’s family not to look back as the devastation took place.

Lot’s wife does the one thing she wasn’t supposed to do, and Scripture says “she became a pillar of salt.”

We don’t get any more details than that, so we’re left wondering how it all went down. Did she just morph into a pile of literal salt? Did the heat from the cities vaporize her into a salt-like substance? Was she locked into a statue-like form that resembled salt?

We can’t say for sure, but one thing is clear: raining death is a pretty terrifying way to say goodbye. And you thought acid rain was something to be afraid of.

Read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah for yourself in Genesis 18 & 19.

White As A Ghost

God kept his promise to Father Abraham, and about 500 years later, his little family line had grown into a proper nation. After God dramatically rescued them from slavery in Egypt (there are 10 more spooky stories in that tale alone), he led the Israelites into the desert on their way to a land promised long ago to Abraham.

The only problem? The Israelites make for terrible road-trip buddies. They complain… a lot. About the heat. And the food. And the water. And feeling lost. So much so that some of the people even consider returning to life as slaves in Egypt.

It’s one thing when the rebellion starts at the bottom, but something else entirely when it reaches the top.

In Numbers 12, the complaining has reached a new level, and two of the people closest to Moses—Israel’s leader—join the song. It’s his brother, Aaron, and his sister, Miriam.

They’re apparently jealous of his position as God’s chosen voice for the people.

“And they said, “Has the LORD indeed spoken only through Moses? Has he not spoken through us also?” And the LORD heard it.”

Dun-dun-dun. Aaron and Miriam opened their big yappers, and God paid attention. He responds by calling all three siblings to meet with him.

God descends upon them in a pillar of cloud, completely covering them. While in that fog, God reaffirms Moses and chastises the other two for speaking so foolishly.

“Why… were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?” And the anger of the LORD was kindled against them, and he departed.”

As the cloud lifts, Aaron looks at his sister, Miriam, with terror on his face—her skin has turned leperous, as white as snow.

Even now, leprosy is a serious condition, but back then, it was a death sentence. Without proper medication, people suffering from leprosy would lose feeling in their limbs, eventually leading to catastrophic infections and injuries. But even worse than the physical effects were the emotional and relational ones.

Because leprosy is highly contagious, lepers were forced out of the community and into colonies on the outskirts of town. Anyone with leprosy was considered “unclean,” and so contact with family and friends would immediately be cut off, as well as participation in any corporate events, including worship. Besides other lepers, you were on your own.

Sensing the gravity of the situation, Moses immediately asks God to have mercy on Miriam. God agrees to heal her, but only after she spends 7 days living with the other lepers outside town.

Sudden onset skin disease that immediately throws you into isolation? That’s double-shot spooky. Better watch your mouth.

Read the story of Miriam’s punishment and restoration in Numbers 12.

The Bear Necessities

Cocaine bear has nothing on this story.

Jumping another 500ish years in the history of God’s people, we find them established in the Promised Land. But after a period of flourishing under King David, things have taken a pretty remarkable downturn. The country has split into two nations—Israel (the northern tribes) and Judah (the southern tribes)... and neither is doing a great job honoring God.

The majority of their kings worship false gods introduced to them by neighboring nations, and the people under their rule have completely lost the plot on what it means to live as God’s chosen people.

God isn’t content to let his people grope around in the dark, so He sends prophets—men and women with messages from God calling His people back to him. Sadly, most of the prophets are ignored at best, and reviled (or killed) at worst.

Elisha was one of these prophets, sent by God to try to reach the people in the northern kingdom of Israel. One day, on his way to Bethel, a city which had become a center of worship to false gods, Elisha runs into a pack of young men. These men disrespect and mock the prophet, calling him “baldy” and instructing him to “go up,” likely a reference to going up to a “high place” where much false worship was occurring.

While some Bible translations call them “young boys,” the Hebrew words here have multiple meanings. Elsewhere in the Bible, the same phrases are used to describe young men serving as servants, priests, and even kings. In my mind, it makes sense that instead of kids, the people harassing Elisha could be young men serving as prophets of the false gods that had ensnared the people of Israel. They, perhaps more than anyone else, have a reason to mock and ridicule a true man of God.

It’s important to take a second to differentiate “young boys” from “young men,” because what happens next is a bloodbath.

“[Elisha] turned around, and when he saw them, he cursed them in the name of the LORD. And two she-bears came out of the woods and [mauled] forty-two of them.”

Gulp. Well that escalated quickly.

Those bears meant business. Baloo, they were not. It’s enough to make Jigsaw squirm.

Read the story of the baldy and the bears yourself in 2 Kings 2:23-25.

Under the Sea

Right after Elisha, God had a unique plan for a prophet named Jonah. Rather than being sent to the people of Israel, God gave him the assignment of reaching the Assyrians living in the major coastal city of Nineveh.

The only problem? Jonah didn’t want that job. In fact, he didn’t like the Assyrians at all. Long considered one of Israel’s most-hated enemies, Jonah was 0% interested in those people having the chance to respond to God’s message and receive mercy instead of judgment. So the prophet went the other direction. You might be familiar with the story.

He jumps on a boat going away from Nineveh and a storm blows up. The sailors determine it’s Jonah’s fault. He confesses to running away from God, and tells the seamen to throw him overboard. When they do, the storm immediately stops.

As for the runaway prophet, God sends a large fish to gobble him up. He then proceeds to spend three days in the fish—cramped, wet, and in total darkness. Eventually, the fish vomits Jonah back up on land, and he has a second chance to do things God’s way.

If the story of Jonah doesn’t strike you as spooky, then you clearly aren’t claustrophobic. Or you haven’t seen the trailer for Whalefall.

Being buried alive is freaking nightmare fuel, whether it’s six feet under ground, or a mile beneath the ocean’s surface.

Read the story of the prophet’s underwater adventure for yourself in Jonah 1-4.

The Writing on the Wall

The prophets did their thing, but the people didn’t respond. Eventually, God sends invading armies of Israel’s enemies. The northern kingdom was eventually conquered and taken into exile by Assyria. A few generations later, the southern kingdom of Judah was exiled to Babylon. But even far from home, God hadn’t given up on his people.

Though he was born in Judah, Daniel rose to prominence in the kingdom of Babylon. He served their kings and improved the city, while remaining faithful to His God. His story has some wild and spooky turns—from spending the night with lions, to seeing his closest friends survive being burned alive, to watching the king he served lose his mind and live like a wild animal. But nothing takes the cake like the giant writing hand.

By this point, Daniel is an old man, and a new king has taken the throne. Despite knowing how God humbled his predecessor, King Belshazzar wants nothing to do with it. He’s loud, proud, and not worried about Daniel’s God. That is, until one of his raucous parties gets interrupted by something out of the Twilight Zone.

The king, and a 1,000 of his friends, are having a grand time, with wine flowing freely. He gets the idea to bring in some of the vessels that were taken from the temple of God in Jerusalem, and he passes them out to his friends. They praise their gods, while drinking from cups meant to worship the one true God. Then things get weird.

“Immediately the fingers of a human hand appeared and wrote on the plaster of the wall of the king’s palace, opposite the lampstand. And the king saw the hand as it wrote. Then the king’s color changed, and his thoughts alarmed him; his limbs gave way, and his knees knocked together.”

To be honest, if I saw a floating, disembodied hand, carving letters into the wall of my house with its fingers, I’d probably act the same way.

The king calls in his finest magicians, enchanters, and diviners. But no one can explain what the strange writing means. Finally, the queen suggests he ask Daniel, an Israelite who “has the spirit of the holy gods in him.”

The king brings Daniel in, promising to give him gifts and riches if he can interpret the message. Daniel sidesteps all that, pointing the glory back to God before getting down to business.

“You, Belshazzar, have not humbled your heart… but lifted up yourself against the Lord of heaven. And the vessels of His house have been brought in before you, and you… have drunk wine from them. And you have praised the gods of silver and gold… but the God in whose hand is your breath… you have not honored.

…And this is the writing that was inscribed: Mene, Mene, Tekel, Parsin. This is the interpretation of the matter: Mene, God has numbered the days of your kingdom and brought it to an end; Tekel, you have been weighed in the balances and found wanting; Peres, your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.”

That very night Belshazzar became the last ruler of Babylon. His kingdom was invaded by his enemies, the Medes and the Persians, and he was killed in the struggle.

You might say, despite all his wealth and status, the king couldn’t read the writing on the wall.

The Twist-Ending We Never Saw Coming

Taken at face value, these five spooky stories lead us to one conclusion—God is utterly terrifying.

Is he going to rain fire on my head like Sodom? Or maybe strike me with a disease like Miriam? Will he send beasts to maul me, bury me alive, or send me to my doom for a mistake I’ve made?

While God certainly takes justice seriously, which means He must take sin seriously, he’s not waiting to smite you or me. I think we’ve misunderstood Him.

When there is distance between people, things get lost in translation. It’s why text messages can’t match the weight of in-person conversations. Face-to-face time changes our understanding and deepens any relationship.

When we thought God was fire and brimstone, Jesus came to earth to break our assumptions. Did he confront sin? Of course. Did he say some hard things? Absolutely. But he was also kind and generous. He loved normal people. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, and loved the lonely. And he set about correcting our misaligned vision of who God was.

Jesus said “I and the Father are one,” and that “[I] can do nothing of [my] own accord, but only what [I] see the Father doing” (John 10:30 and John 5:19). Translation: Jesus is what God looks like, acts like, and thinks like. He changes how we understand our spooky stories.

The story of Sodom and Gomorrah seems to suggest that God is trigger-happy with judgment. But when Jesus enters a town where he isn’t accepted, and his disciples ask if they should call down fire from heaven to consume the town, Jesus looks at them cross-eyed. Scripture says “[Jesus] turned and rebuked them. And they went on to another village.”

Taking the two stories together, we see that there is a time when punishment is the natural consequence of rebellion against God, but His default response is mercy. Jesus himself is God’s mercy, his death paying the debt that we owed but couldn’t pay.

Miriam’s leprosy seems to show that God doles out sickness and affliction as punishment. Yet when his disciples encountered a blind man, and asked Jesus whose sin had caused it, the Messiah reoriented their thinking. “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3). Our weaknesses might not be punishment, but an opportunity for God’s strength to shine through ever brighter.

While leprosy was a forced rejection, Jesus made it a point to not only interact with lepers, but to touch them and heal them. He reminds us that nothing in the natural world—height or depth, sickness or health—can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38-39).

While he never mauled anyone, Jesus did have a bear in him. When confronted with religious elites who kept people away from God, Jesus lost his cool. He saved his harshest words not for sinners, but for the Pharisees. He called them whitewashed tombs, dirty cups, and blind guides. Once, when visiting the temple and seeing how it had become a place of business and not prayer, Jesus tossed tables and cleaned house.

The young men who mocked Elisha were likely connected with worship of false gods, actively leading God’s people in the wrong direction. A hard reset was in order, and Jesus wasn’t afraid to do the same. When it comes to freedom, Jesus doesn’t beat around the bush. “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to Father except through me” (John 14:6).

Jonah’s three days in the fish were like an overture, introductory music playing notes that only come into full clarity later. Jesus himself made the connection, explaining that while people clamored for a supernatural sign from him to prove his divinity, the only sign they would get would be the sign of Jonah.

“Just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12:40).

Jonah went into the fish because of disobedience, giving him time to mend his attitude and ways (don’t underestimate the power of a good time-out), while Jesus went into the tomb precisely because of his obedience. He stared down death, and came out the other side, so that we could all be reconciled to God.

While God sent a creepy hand as a portent of doom for King Belshazzar, and the whole Babylonian Empire, Jesus redefined it. Once, a group of religious elites brought a woman caught in adultery to Jesus. They expected a clear pronouncement of doom. She was caught in an offense punishable by death. Instead, Jesus bent over and started writing with his finger in the dirt.

The Pharisees wait for an answer, utterly confused as to what Jesus is doing and why he is delaying. Finally, he looks up at them. “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

What did Jesus write? We don’t know. But I like to imagine it might have been the same words Daniel read on the wall. Except, instead of applying them to the woman, he put them onto the Pharisees. They had been weighed in the scales and found wanting. They had an appearance of religion, but inside, they were far from God.

God’s correction isn’t punishment for punishment's sake. It’s meant to push us in the right direction. Jesus doesn’t let the woman off the hook. She’s clearly done wrong. But with a stunning combination of grace and gravity, Jesus speaks to her after all the Pharisees have walked away.

“Jesus straightened up and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’

‘No one, sir,’ she said.

‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin’” (John 8:1-10).

Jesus changes everything—including how we understand the rest of scripture.

A Sweet Treat

The Bible’s book of wisdom says it starts in an odd place: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10).

But it’s not the same fear we get from watching a scary movie or telling a spooky story around the campfire. It’s less terror and more respect; less anxiety and more awe; less horror and more humility. It’s understanding that God has the power to squash us like a bug, and yet Jesus proves that He loves us instead.

This Halloween, that truth is sweeter than any candy I’ll swipe from my kids’ Trick-or-Treat haul.