While I do respect a solid sense of self-importance, unfortunately, what gets demonstrated to you to your satisfaction still isn’t the arbiter of what is or isn’t possible.
Sure. They just don’t.
And if it just keeps on doing so, what distinguishes it from an omnibenevolent one?
And so does an omnibenevolent one. They just don’t do it. Still not getting what’s difficult here.
If omnibenevolence is a subset of omnipotence, as you claimed, that’s not logically possible, because then every omnibenevolent being would necessarily be omnipotent.
But since I don’t hold to that, there is, of course, no contradiction between being omnibenevolent and not omnipotent. Omnibenevolence is just a description of how one acts, both omnipotent and non-omnipotent beings are able to follow this course.
These were, by and large, people who either directly wrote or are fluent in Latin. They did absolutely use the word as what it means; otherwise, if they’d meant to write ‘always acting for the good’, they would have done so (omnibenefacient, maybe). But one doesn’t have to dig far to find that we’re indeed talking about what God wills—read the first three articles of Aquinas’ Summa Theologiae, for instance. He also quite explicitly rejects your idea that because God’s will is the same for every act, that somehow means that it must be constrained in some way:
From the fact that God wills from eternity whatever He wills, it does not follow that He wills it necessarily
Why would I ever be required to eat a banana, if I don’t like bananas? If I don’t like them in every situation, I don’t eat them in every situation. There’s no valid inference from there to me somehow being unable to eat bananas. I could if I wanted to—I just don’t ever want to.
They can always choose to do evil, they just never do. Still not getting how that’s difficult
I do, which is why your continual insistence that one must sometimes do a thing to prove that one can do a thing—that there must be sometimes instances where I eat a banana or else, I’m unable to eat a banana—is so puzzling. You want two contradictory things: on the one hand, you affirm that not doing x does not entail an inability to do x, on the other, you want to say that not doing evil entails that one can’t do evil. Both can’t be true simultaneously. Hence, my attempt to tease out exactly why you would hold to such a contradiction.
I mean, just proceed by induction. An omnipotent being is faced with a choice between e and g. They choose g. That choice, by your own admission, doesn’t impact their ability to choose e, and hence, their omnipotence, in the slightest. So we’re back in the same situation as before: the omnipotent being is again faced with the choice of e or g. Again they choose g. Again their omnipotence isn’t lessened. And then so on: after the nth choice, if their ability to choose between e and g hasn’t lessened, neither does it do for the n+1st. Hence they never loose any omnipotence, always choose g, and are thus both omnipotent and omnibenevolent.
And again, I need not settle whether a human is a featherless biped to argue that all humans are mortal. It’s not necessary to settle every detail of free will before we can intelligibly talk about it.