What is "religious" is a largely subjective question which varies from individual to individual. Something which is not a "religious" question at all to most people can be seen as highly religious by a select minority, depending on the doctrines and dogmas of that group.
Consider modern medicine. People of most religious and philosophical outlooks — Baptists, Quakers, Bahaiis, Atheists, Lutherans, Buddhists, etc — will visit a typical Western-style doctor when ill. Should you take a particular antibiotic to cure a bacterial infection? The only questions for most people are "Is it safe?" and "Does it work?" They don't see a visit to a doctor as a "religious" question in any way.
But for believers in a religion called "Christian Science" — an early form of New Age belief — that same issue is a profoundly religious question; a challenge to their faith. As is common in some New Age teachings, they hold that their thoughts influence the universe, so positive thinking, not medicine, is the correct antidote to disease. Questions of medical efficacy, for a Baptist, are not religious. Yet for the Christian Science practitioner, the same exact questions are profoundly religious.
Something similar can be said regarding Scientologists and psychology. If a friend tells me he is seeing a counselor, my main concerns are whether the counselor knows what she's doing, or whether she carries a lot of psychological baggage of her own. Yet, as recent interviews with Tom Cruise demonstrated, the same act can be a profound religious threat to a Scientologist.
The are many more such examples: Most people accept that the universe is older than several thousand years, and can visit a cave and marvel at the stalactites, appreciating both their beauty and age. For certain sects of Christianity, who believe the entire universe was created just a few thousand years ago, the age of the formations becomes a "religious" question, and challenge to their faith. Most people will treat meat as they would any other food. For a devout Hindu, such mundane matter of diet become a "religious" question.
The test for these kind of religious beliefs are simple: Look for something most the population thinks is perhaps merely interesting ("Does this medicine work? Is meat healthy? How old is this rock?") and then look for a group which treats that question or issue very differently. And then notice how they react: an orthodox Jew would never object to my eating pork (and try to prevent it), but Tom Cruise was definitely upset by the private medical choices of others.
In 2003, Nancy Bryson, a PhD biochemist and the Mississippi University of Women, head of the Division of Science and Mathematics, gave a talk entitled "Critical Thinking on Evolution", which presented, according to her testimony, two challenges to the current evolutionary model: the origin of life, and the Cambrian explosion — two areas, apparently, of which her students were largely unaware.
Darwinian evolutionary theory holds mutations occur randomly, and the fittest survive to pass on their genes. For most people, it would seem an incontrovertible fact that such a theory cannot explain how life arose in the first place, leaving that puzzle an open question. Of course different people are going to approach this puzzle from different philosophical vantage points, but the fact itself is incontestable, not religious. Similarly, the Cambrian explosion is a historical fact, interesting, but no more threatening to most of us, whatever your view of it, than a visit to the doctor or psychologist. And certainly most people wouldn't find it a violation of their religion to merely discuss it.
Yet shortly after her talk, though her students apparently enjoyed it, a group of fellow professors became enraged and decided something needed to be done. As a result, Dr. Bryson was informed she would be removed as division head, with an implication that perhaps she wouldn't even be on campus next year.
Boulder Philosophy professor Bradley Monton experienced something similar: after a talk on ID, which apparently most his audience found interesting, and which he reports generally got good reviews from his peers in the Philosophy Department, it was suggested (by a professor of biology, apparently) that there was talk that he might be "the next Ward Churchill", likening him to an infamous professor who had recently been fired for academic dishonesty.
Where professors Monton and Bryce thought they were engaged in an academic discussion about evidence, theory, and history (Monton isn't even religious, he's an atheist), for a number of other professors — generally professors of biology, and clearly those of an atheistic outlook — the mere discussion of such subjects was apparently a violation of some deeply held religious tenant, a threat to specific dogmas they hold.
Now what's wrong with this picture?
According to many surveys, the majority of the US population believe that God had something to do with the existence of life. That's several hundred million people. How many of them are braying for atheist university professors to lose their job because those scientists disagree? Almost none, percentage-wise. Christians read the newspapers and Internet every day and see people saying their beliefs are stupid, and that they're the worst and most dangerous people in the world. They generally respond by turning their cheek, or, at most, dashing off an intemperate letter or blog entry.
In contrast, our science institutions are now almost completely dominated by secularist materialists, a rather small percentage of the population. And certainly, many are wonderful, decent people (I can think of a quite a list of them). And yet, time and time again, when influential members of this particular academic subset feel threatened, or see someone dissent against their beliefs, they act to punish, persecute, and fire — even men like Guillermo Gonzolas who have rockstar-level research credentials.
It is not the beliefs of atheists which I find problematic. Not at all. It is the rank intolerance of the more ardent members, which makes itself felt when they assemble into even relatively small populations. I support the right of religious groups — including zealous atheists — to assemble and associate with whoever they wish. But when a small group of adherents permeate allegedly non-sectarian academic institutions with a religiously-driven climate of fear and intimidation?
Houston, we have a problem.