Witnessing the Miracle of Rain

This is a record of an interview with Zhuosheng Nongna, a spirit who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. Having witnessed the rain-making ritual performed by Practitioner Su, he now seeks purification and deliverance. This account reflects upon his life as an Australian farmer and his subsequent existence as a wandering spirit. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on March 19, 2021.

Zhuosheng Nongna speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am deeply grateful for the Buddha’s equality. Even I, a nameless spirit wandering through space, have been granted the opportunity to be saved and the chance to share my story in this interview.

My name is Zhuosheng Nongna, and I am a local Australian. I lived in Australia for nearly thirty years, and for those three decades, I existed in the grip of relentless drought. I know the agony of dryness all too well. As a farmer who relied on the land for my livelihood, I suffered immensely from the lack of water. It was a constant, gnawing pain that defined my life.

A Skeptic's Life in the Australian Drought

I had never even considered the possibility of 'praying for rain.' From the time I was a child until I passed away, I had never seen anyone successfully summon rain. If someone claimed they could, I would have assumed they were performing a magic trick—nothing more than a clever illusion. That was my firm belief while I was alive, and when I became a spirit, I carried that same skepticism with me. It was incredibly difficult for me to believe that a ritual could actually bring rain. However, when Practitioner Su allowed me to witness the miracle with my own eyes, I had to shatter my rigid convictions and accept that this was all undeniably real.

The Buddha is a figure of Eastern faith, the cornerstone of religion in Asia. We in the West rarely take the time to understand who the Buddha is or what the Buddha teaches. Consequently, we know almost nothing about the Buddha’s teachings. Some people even harbour negative thoughts, dismissing the Buddha’s teachings as a cult or believing that those who follow the Buddha engage in bizarre behaviours. The truth is that these misconceptions stem entirely from ignorance. If one were to truly delve into the teachings and understand the transformative power of the Buddha’s Dharma, they would realise that all those doubts were merely a misunderstanding.

The Reality of the Unseen

I saw Practitioner Su perform the rain-making ritual with my own eyes. Because I am a spirit, I have the capacity to see things that remain hidden. For those living with a physical body, unless you possess extraordinary psychic abilities, it is impossible to see with the naked eye the magnificent spectacle of Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body working in the space to summon rain. Which of our fellow Australians would believe that even our national leaders came to join in the prayer for rain? It is truly hard to fathom. If you were to tell any Westerner this, they might think you have lost your mind, or they might label you as abnormal, or even criticise your religion as being overly superstitious.

Indeed, if someone had told me while I was still alive that the spirit of our leader was following an Eastern practitioner to pray for rain, I would have laughed out loud and told them, 'Stop daydreaming!' I have always been a man who values practicality. I never indulged in daydreams. Everything I desired was something that could manifest tangibly before me. I was not like some children who enjoy living in fantasies. Some children dream of growing wings like birds so they can fly freely in the sky, or they imagine themselves as giants standing over the Earth. I never had such dreams. Everything I wanted was something I could achieve through hard work. That is why I say I am a man who values reality and practicality; I do not engage in unrealistic dreams.

Because I was such a practical person, it was even harder for me to believe in the concept of 'praying for rain' while I was alive. I chose to believe in science and research, not in things that seemed illusory, unreal, or impractical. It all felt too fake to me.

A Life of Fragile Health

Now that I have lost my physical body, I am a spirit wandering through space. I am no longer constrained by a physical form, and I can see the world that the physical eyes cannot perceive. It was only then that I realised how blind the human mind can be. We are so quick to make definitive judgments based on what we cannot see, mistakenly believing that our own limited perspective is the only truth and that what others say is false. This is a grave error. Practitioner Su’s rain-making ritual shattered every single one of my stubborn attachments.

I was a very ordinary Australian. I grew up with my family—I had four siblings: an older brother, an older sister, a younger brother, and a younger sister. We were five children in total, and we were all our parents' treasures. Our family was very close and harmonious. My father worked hard, doing physically demanding labour. Although it was exhausting, he was punctual and earned a decent wage, so my mother did not need to work outside the home; my father’s salary was enough to sustain us.

We held a firm faith in our Lord Jesus. From the day I was born, my parents took me to the church to be baptised, and I became a Christian, believing in Jesus my entire life. I was frail and sickly from childhood, the weakest of the five children. My parents were constantly worried and anxious about my health. Whether it was the heat of summer or the biting cold of winter, I had to wear multiple layers of clothing. If I didn't, I would feel a chill throughout my body, my lips would turn purple, and my face would go pale. Even standing under the scorching sun, I had to wear at least three layers of clothing to ensure I stayed warm. The hospital felt like my second home. I visited it frequently, and after every appointment, I would return home with a large bag of medication. I didn't even know what illness I had. When I asked my parents, they didn't seem to know either, as no specific diagnosis was ever made. My body would simply feel inexplicably unwell—a level of discomfort that required me to lie in bed to recover. Once, I tried to push through the pain to work, but I collapsed and remained unconscious for a long time before my father found me and rushed me to the emergency room. After that, my family kept a close watch on my health. The moment they saw me looking unwell, they would insist I lie down and forbid me from running around.

The Moment the Rain Fell

My physical suffering made me cling even more to my faith. Whenever I was in the deepest pain, I would think of the Lord in my heart, begging Him to save me. I considered myself a most devout Christian, deeply trusting in the Lord. No matter how great my pain was, I believed that at the moment my soul left my body, He would come to rescue me.

To spend more time with us, my father quit his construction job and moved our family from Sydney to the small town of Goombungee. There was a large plot of ancestral farmland there that had been left uncultivated for a long time and was overgrown with weeds. My father brought us to that old house, hoping we could farm the land together. It was his dream to live such a life. He encouraged me to help out in the fields, saying that the sun would be good for my health. It was true; after spending time in the sun, I felt much better. I gradually grew to love farming, learning diligently from my father every day, hoping to master all the skills needed to cultivate a beautiful orchard.

During our farming years, several severe droughts caused my father and me great distress. Without water, crops cannot grow well and may even wither and die, leading to massive losses. We had no way to make it rain. We could only adapt to the changes in nature; we had no power to alter them. In the worst year, we had no harvest at all and had to rely on our savings to survive. That period made us deeply feel the agony of water scarcity. Every living thing on Earth needs water—even an ant needs water. Water is essential for all life, yet in Australia, it often does not rain, causing the land, the animals, and all the flowers and trees to suffer.

When forest fires broke out, we were completely helpless. We could only watch as the fire burned until the entire mountain was consumed. Seeing that the drought showed no signs of improvement, my father considered giving up farming to return to his old job, but farming was his lifelong dream, making the decision incredibly difficult for him.

I had hoped to help my father fulfil his dream, but my health continued to decline. In my twenties, my body began to fail again. No matter how often I went to church or how diligently I took my medicine, there was no improvement. In the year I was about to turn thirty, the Grim Reaper came for me.

Before my life ended, I still thought of the Lord, believing He would take me to Heaven. But when I opened my eyes, I did not see the Heaven I had imagined. Instead, there was only darkness. I had nowhere to go, no home to return to. I became a wandering ghost, drifting aimlessly.

A Newfound Faith

I was a ghost, yet like a human, I needed water. I absorbed the moisture from nature, and whenever I found water, I felt comfortable. However, the entire land was suffering from a severe lack of water. Sometimes there wasn't even a drop in the lakes. I was thirsty and searched everywhere, suffering immensely.

When Practitioner Su began to pray for rain in Australia, I watched from the sidelines. I wanted to know how much power the Buddha truly had. Could he really make it rain? I saw Practitioner Su bring forth many Eastern Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, as well as many spirits whose bodies emitted light. They were spirits like me, but each of them was so radiant, and compared to my own grey and dim appearance, they looked magnificent. Soon after, I saw our leader arrive at the scene, which shocked me. How could even the leader join in? I became curious and joined them. Practitioner Su led everyone in chanting the Buddha’s name. I followed along, and as I chanted the holy name of Namo Amituofo, word by word, into my heart, I finally understood what the power of the Buddha meant. I realised why Easterners have such deep faith in the Buddha—it is because the Buddha truly possesses immense energy.

The sky began to rain. I continued to chant in the space, watching the raindrops fall upon the parched earth. My heart was filled with joy! Suddenly, someone asked, 'Who is seeking Chao Du?' I saw the Rain God, the Wind God, the Thunder God, and the Lightning God all arrive. I followed closely behind them, hoping for a chance to be saved by Practitioner Su. To my surprise, I truly waited for my opportunity, and even more joyfully, I was granted the chance to be interviewed!

Now, if someone asks me, 'Do you believe in the Buddha?' I will loudly reply, 'I believe without a shadow of a doubt!' If someone asks, 'Do you believe that praying for rain is real?' I will tell them, 'I have witnessed it with my own eyes!'

I am grateful for the compassion of Namo Amituofo, who did not abandon me. Even though I am a Westerner, Namo Amituofo was still willing to accept me.

I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su, who was willing to save me, allowing me to see the light again in the dark space. I am grateful for everything.

Namo Amituofo."

Memorial Tablet: Spirits and sentient beings with karmic affinity who came to seek Chao Du during the rain-making ritual at Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia, number too many to count, represented by: Zhuosheng Nongna (seeking purification, seeking Chao Du)