About two years ago Michael Vick, then the Atlanta Falcons’ star quarterback, was convicted for running dog fights and for that and other crimes was swiftly sent off to prison. Now, he’s out, and he’s playing football again, and people are split about whether that’s right. The Vick case raises a question for all of us: when do we forgive someone?

This past Sunday, Vick sat for a lengthy 60 Minutes interview. As I watched the interview, I kept wondering whether I should believe him, even forgive him. Here’s a man who was on top of the world before being convicted – a star athlete, with $135 million worth of contracts in his hip pocket, and a promising future.

Now, he’s served his time, and so in a legal sense he has paid his debt to society. But forgiveness often goes deeper than serving time. It involves people believing that you understand your transgression, that you seek to better yourself, and that you are willing to walk a different path.

In our society, we have a mixed record on forgiveness. Often we simply give people a “pass” when they do wrong. Our culture is filled with people who have violated the law, our trust – or both – only to come forth with the perfunctory apology, tears, and histrionics. Then we all say “ok.” Think of any number of political officials. The recent exception is Governor Mark Sanford of South Carolina; he’s holding onto his office for dear life, but has lost his standing and family in the process.

There are other instances where people have transgressed, and where we simply write them off. The most obvious case for me is convicted felons, who seek to re-enter community life only to be cast aside. We often fail to offer education, family, employment, or other necessary supports to help these individuals get back up on their feet. Indeed, many of the signals we send to them are, “Don’t bother coming into our community!”

So, here we have Michael Vick. Upon his re-entry to society, Vick is being mentored by Tony Dungy, the former coach of the Indianapolis Colts, a deeply religious man, and someone who does significant work with men in prisons. He met with Vick before his release to gauge his remorse and his potential, and he decided to put his sterling reputation of integrity and forthrightness behind him.

Wayne Pacelle, President and CEO of the Humane Society of the United States, has also publicly vouched for Vick. In a deft public relations move, Vick reached out to the Humane Society to work with them, no doubt trying to fix his image. Not only did Pacelle say “fine,” but they have worked out a true partnership where Vick will do more than requisite public service announcements. Pacelle said on 60 Minutes that dog fighting has become a major hidden problem in the U.S. and that Vick is a believable, effective spokesperson.

But is all this even enough? What strikes me about the Vick situation is that not only does he have Dungy and Pacelle standing beside him, but he has them to hold him publicly accountable. The lingering question is only that of Vick’s own authenticity.

So, do we give him another chance? Has he stepped forward to adequately express remorse? Does he have enough people in his life to truly hold him accountable? Can he run, but not hide? At what point, can someone take all the necessary steps possible, at least for the time being, and still not receive a nod from us?

For me, I believe we cast too many people aside without giving them a real shot, and give too many people who no longer deserve support a pass by looking the other way. I hate what Michael Vick did. But here’s someone who is at least trying to look us in the eye. Only time will tell if he truly succeeds.