Dom Kirby, prior of Silverstream Priory in County Meath, Ireland has a wonderful meditation on the fall of Judas, which he explains was a gradual process. There were aids along the way that could have helped him with his frustrations and misunderstandings about Christ's mission. Surely he could have talked to Our Lord himself, or to Peter or John. But his opportunity to talk to Mary remains for all of us. Consider her availability then and now:
Judas had another recourse, but he was too proud to make use of it. He could have gone to Mary, the Mother of Jesus. Even before the words of Our Lord to Saint John from the Cross, “Behold, thy mother” (Jn 19:27), Mary was a true mother to each of the Apostles. She knew them as any mother knows her children, and she loved them, even with their weaknesses and repeated failures to believe in her Son, to hope in Him, and to love Him. Any one of the twelve could have gone to Mary at any time for counsel, for comfort, for encouragement, and for a mother’s blessing. She loved each of them because her Son loved them, and chose them, and called them to leave all things and follow Him.
Judas could have gone to Mary and said, “Mother, behold, my life is filled with wicked desires, with anger, and jealousy, and pride. Mother, I am ashamed to confess this to thee, but I am losing confidence in thy Son. I cannot accept His way of doing things. I am hardening my heart against His teachings. Mother, help me! And Mary, moved by an immense compassion, would have caressed his cheek, and opened her hands in prayer over his head. Mary was then, and remains even now for us, the Mediatrix of All Graces, the Mother of Mercy, the Refuge of Sinners, our life, our sweetness, and above all, our hope in this valley of tears. She would not have condemned Judas. She would not have been angry with him. She would have felt an immense pity for him, the pity of a mother for a wayward child. Mary could have saved him from the terrible fate that awaited him. But Judas did not seek her out. And so Mary would weep for him bitterly.
One can go to Mary at any moment, with any temptation, any weakness, and any sin. Our Lady hates sin, but loves poor sinners. She is disgusted by evil, but is merciful towards those held in its grip. She is repulsed by vice, but full of compassion for those who struggle to become free of it. Seeing us in our sins, she weeps over us, allowing her tears to soften and purify our hearts. Turn to her and she will crush the head of the serpent who plots our ruin. It is enough to look at her image with confidence, enough to say her blessed name, “Mary, Mary!”
She is the model of "loving the sinner and hating the sin," because the first commitment (to the sinner) is compromised by the latter (the sin). While they seem juxtaposed (love/hate), they are the same thing. Anyone who really loves another despises those elements which assail or compromise who he is called to be, and we want everyone to be his best self: the one in God's mind at his very conception.
May we turn to Mary at all times, and may we in turn imitate her ability to be a refuge for others, so that they find in us wisdom and strength in their difficult moments. The strength, of course, is not our own (nor was it Mary's) but it was that "tabernacling" of God, who gives strength to us all.